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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26535304">La Princesa Guerrera</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/terma_archivist/pseuds/terma_archivist'>terma_archivist</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sharpe (TV), The X-Files, Xena: Warrior Princess</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crossover, Episode: s02e13 The Quest, F/F</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2002-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2002-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:14:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>119,173</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26535304</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/terma_archivist/pseuds/terma_archivist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Our story is set during the Napoleonic wars as illustrated by Bernard Cornwell in his series of 'Sharpe' books and the subsequent TV movies. As our tale begins the British forces are pushing the French out of Spain. Richard Sharpe is now a Major and has been recently widowed. Xena, because of the ambrosia she consumed (Episode: The Quest), is immortal and has been travelling the world for two thousand years since the death of her soulmate, Gabrielle.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gabrielle/Xena</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>TER/MA</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Note from alicettlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at <a href="https://fanlore.org/wiki/TER/MA">TER/MA</a> and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2019. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/collections/terma/profile">the TER/MA collection profile</a>.<br/>X-files fans will recognise the names Mulder, Scully, Krycek, etc... however our characters have been adapted to the times they live in the and histories we've given them. This is our first joint effort at fanfiction. Try not to be too hard on us but we really would like to hear your opinion of our work.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p><br/><b>La Princesa Guerrera<br/>by Carla Jane and Jim</b>
</p>
<p><br/><br/> <b>Spain, Spring 1813
</b>
<i></i></p>
<p>Here's forty shillings on the drum
<br/>For those who'll volunteer to come
<br/>To 'list and fight the foe today.
<br/>Over the hills and far away.
<br/>(Chorus)
<br/>O'er the hills and o'er the main.
<br/>Through Flanders, Portugal and Spain.
<br/>King George commands and we obey.
<br/>Over the hills and far away.
<br/>When duty calls me I must go
<br/>To stand and face another foe.
<br/>But part of me will always stray
<br/>Over the hills and far away.
<br/>If I should fall to rise no more,
<br/>As many comrades did before,
<br/>Then ask the fifes and drums to play.
<br/>Over the hills and far away.
<br/>Then fall in lads behind the drum,
<br/>With colours blazing like the sun.
<br/>Along the road to come-what may.
<br/>Over the hills and far away.
</p>
<p>
<i></i></p>
<p>XENA (to Gabrielle): "When you think of them, the dead can hear your thoughts."
</p>
<p>She had forced her body as far as the pain and blood loss would allow. The bodies of her comrades would draw looters as surely as water drew animals in the desert. The last thing she needed right now was to have to defend herself against bandits. Immortality guaranteed she would live through the savaging those French bastards had inflicted on her but it still hurt, damn it, and it would for a long while.
</p>
<p>A small hollow in the rocky hillside was the best shelter as she could expect on such short notice. She collapsed into the rubble, wincing at the new bruises her graceless action provoked. "How can I call myself a warrior... to let this happen?"
</p>
<p>She knew that cleaning and binding would help speed the healing her immortal body was capable of but she had neither the energy nor the willpower to bother right now.
</p>
<p>"ALL DEAD!" Her mind screamed what she didn't dare wail aloud for fear of attracting predators. "They were my friends." Centuries of constantly speaking to her long dead, ever-present beloved had honed the clarity of her mental voice. "Gods, but I'm tired of trying to fight fair. I'm tired of watching everyone I dare to care about die." Her head lolled back. She tried to study the clear blue of the sky, find her centre, wait for the enchanted ambrosia in her body to begin the healing... but it wouldn't work. Right now what she really wanted to do was hack a swath of savage destruction through the French army with her sword. Although it was her own, the taste of blood was sharply tempting on her tongue.
</p>
<p>"They have no right to be here." She justified to her unspeaking conscience. "Why should I restrain myself while they massacre my companions. They drove us from our homes." The blaze of fire consuming the innards of the small house she had been staying in with friends was bright in the back of her mind. Della's youngest children had whimpered so quietly as they watched the only home they had ever known go up in flame. Not so long after that she and Della had dug far too many tiny graves.
</p>
<p>"Oh my love. We saw backwoods warlords and barbarians that left less ruin in their paths than these modern soldiers."
</p>
<p>She slipped a hand across the wide, ragged tear across the belly of her shirt. Easing sliced skin back into place sent a lance of pain through her abdomen. Further inspection of her now crimson shirt showed a hole near her left shoulder. That explained why her arm had refused to move properly. When the worst of her gut wound healed she would have to use her belt knife to dig out the thrice-damned musket ball. "May the inventor of gunpowder rot in the deepest bowels of Tartarus." She hated guns and artillery with a passion. "It's gotten so easy to kill, beloved. Even untrained children can manage destruction with such simple tools in their hands." She struggled out of her sword harness but kept it close. It was the only possession she had managed to keep when she fled the scene of the battle. "At my worst I wasn't half as bad as these butchers." Plans for revenge were already forming at the edges of her monologue. "They deserve it." Cutting away her sodden shirt was more practical than taking it off. "I could show them what real fear is... how a real warrior deals with cowardly animals."
</p>
<p>A snarl escaped as she peeled the fabric away from her wounds.
</p>
<p>"I know you think there's other ways, beloved, but they've pushed me into a corner. It's so hard to stay civilised when... " A stream of verbal curses interrupted the internal stream of thought. 
</p>
<p>It was quite probably her imagination but the sky seemed to have turned a bloody red over the last hour.
</p>
<p>"I know you'll disapprove, beloved, but times have changed and the people of this land... "
</p>
<p>A more recent face washed across her rambling mind, momentarily pushing her ancient lover to the sidelines. Teresa's fierce grin was always a sight to behold. The Spanish woman had been such a vibrant soul and an apt pupil. "If only I had taught Teresa more she might not be buried in the cold ground right now. I shouldn't have held back, beloved. This is war, not a skirmish with bandits." Another shudder of pain wracked the tall frame. "I wish I'd died with you." It wasn't the first time, or even the one hundredth, that though had surfaced. "I miss you so much, Gabrielle."
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>XENA: "I don't accept defeat. There are always choices."
</p>
<p>Too far away to answer or touch, Gabrielle dropped down into the sweet grass. The threat of wanton violence and desolation in her distant lover's mindvoice caused an ache stronger than the belly wound she was sensing through their connection.
</p>
<p>Gabrielle closed her eyes to the peace of her afterlife and concentrated on their inner bond. It wasn't hard to hear only her lover. Any people who might have reason to think of Gabrielle were in their own version of eternity long ago. Only Xena's thoughts pervaded her mind anymore.
</p>
<p>She gave a sympathetic wince as her lover explored the scope of the injuries the French soldiers had caused but Gabrielle saved her real concern for the bloodthirsty designs whirling in her warrior's mind. 
</p>
<p>"Oh Xena." The bard whispered. "You've done so well for so long." Gabrielle wanted to roundly curse whatever mystic force it was that allowed her to hear Xena's thoughts but denied them the reverse. A soul bond shouldn't be simply one way. That was the most monstrous cruelty to the living half of the pair.
</p>
<p>The shadow of wanton violence on the former warlord's soul hadn't grown this intense since the Crusades and, as fate would have it, most of Xena's earthly support had died over the last year. All that remained were casual associates who were more like to avidly feed the woman's bloodlust rather than try to curb it. Today's ambush had consumed Migeal. He was a bright-eyed teen Gabrielle had learned to love second hand through Xena's eyes and thoughts. He was the last surviving member of the family she had been boarding with, on and off, for ten years.
</p>
<p>"... they've pushed me into a corner." Xena's voice came clear.
</p>
<p>Gabrielle wrapped her fingers in the long, warm grass by her knees. "No, my love! You're stronger than this." Sometimes she imagined some phantom of her encouragement reached her lover, but not today. The spiral of anger and the justifications for violence continued unabated.
</p>
<p>"I know you'll disapprove... "
</p>
<p>"Then don't do it." Gabrielle whispered. "You'll just hate yourself for it." The Bard shook her head at the vision of Teresa, another cherished comrade fallen to the tide of war. Sometimes Gabrielle mixed up her life with her soulmate's. Her own was so placid that Xena's existence tended to trample over top of it.
</p>
<p>"... this is war."
</p>
<p>"That's no excuse." Gabrielle's eyes were starting to sting with tears. She dreaded where this line of though was leading. "It wasn't justification enough then and it isn't enough now either."
</p>
<p>"I wish I'd died with you."
</p>
<p>Distant memories of wracking pain spasmed Gabrielle's arms and legs. Not that, not now. The dead Bard slammed that remembrance back into the deepest part of her brain.
</p>
<p>"I miss you so much, Gabrielle." Then, weakly tacked on. "I need you."
</p>
<p>"I'm coming." Gabrielle forced herself to muffle the sensation of Xena's self-doctoring. Gabrielle opened her green eyes and pulled herself upright, focusing on where she knelt. There had to be a way across the divide between life and death, a way to respond to Xena's failing self-control.  That Xena's thoughts could travel to Gabrielle was proof there was some kind of passageway between the worlds. 
</p>
<p>The Warlord in Xena's soul was seeping too close to the surface. Gabrielle needed to reach her lover before it was too late.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>GABRIELLE : "Most people think of death as the end, when in fact, death can be the beginning."
</p>
<p>The earth refused to remain still before her eyes. Delirium, Xena decided, her wounds were causing a fever. She needed water, medicine, clean bandages, better shelter and eventually... food. Otherwise her body might rot around her, unable to die and taking months upon months to heal. Unfortunately, acquiring all of those things would require that she drag herself across the heaving landscape.
</p>
<p>Xena didn't dare go to any of the nearby towns. The state her body was in right now would have the locals measuring her for a shroud rather than attempting treatment. Food and supplies were too precious due to the voracious appetites of the two nearby armies. The townsfolk would hesitate to waste anything on a stranger who looked to be dying soon anyway. That was assuming they didn't simply turn her over to the French for fear of reprisals over harbouring an obviously active member of the Spanish resistance.
</p>
<p>Of course her own provisions had gone to her band's destroyers and the nearest of her many caches of money and gear was three days ride from here.
</p>
<p>Xena's head flopped to one side, thumping against the side of the narrow crevasse that she lay in. "Dying has to be easier than having to wait for my damned body to heal itself up with no medicine or aid, beloved." She mused. "It would be over more quickly anyway."
</p>
<p>Somewhere in the far distance Xena heard the thunder of horses galloping. "They've got Hazard, beloved. I'm going to miss that horse." It had been a hot, dusty day, much like this one,  when Xena had acquired Hazard. She remembered her mouth had tasted of sand and she was looking for a vendor who sold ale. Her mind drifted in dislocated fits and starts.  "This damned country never has decent ale on hand, beloved. I should have gone back to Germany years ago. I'm sick of the taste of wine and dust. I just got tired of all the stares my size and colouring drew." Yes, she definitely fit in better here in Spain. "I even passed for a Moreno cousin a few times, what a joke. The one time I had to call the old man 'Uncle Cesar' I broke out laughing." 
</p>
<p>Oh yes, that's what she been thinking of. Teresa had been the one who had chosen the two smoke-coloured mares from a long string of animals. The Spanish woman had puffed up with pride when Xena had praised her for picking out the best beasts there and getting such a good deal on them as well.
</p>
<p>Teresa Moreno, what an incredible woman. "If she'd been inclined, I would have taken her to bed." Xena was certain Gabrielle understood her physical infidelities. Two thousand years was a long time to sleep alone. "None of them have been a match for you, beloved. We're linked together for eternity, what are a few years of casual affection compared against that."
</p>
<p>Another thought string unravelled. "Teresa's man, Sharpe, is an officer in the English army, beloved. I've been keeping tabs on him." Perhaps, Xena considered, she could impose upon the connection. The English might be willing to part with supplies if Sharpe vouched for her. Surely Teresa had told her husband about her mentor and that Xena fought on the Spanish side. As a Spanish partisan, Xena was one of their allies. They should be able to spare her some help.
</p>
<p>No, that wouldn't work. She couldn't. She refused to bargain with the English from the weakened position she found herself in. "They'd most likely pat me on the head and point me to where the camp followers plied their charms, beloved. Men these days have no respect for what a properly trained and experienced warrior can accomplish on the field of battle." Xena would have spit but that was a waste of moisture. "What to do?"
</p>
<p>The world did a few more spins across her vision. "If I just lay here its going to get worse before it gets better." That statement was more a scolding to herself than a message for Gabrielle but her thought processes were jumbled.
</p>
<p>Xena caught hold of her scabbarded sword and using it as a cane pulled herself upright. She had to have water. Starting simply seemed the way to go. First water, then worry about medicine, shelter and food. Decorating the trees with French entrails was a month or so down the list but thinking of it did bring a grim smile to her face.
</p>
<p>Take a step, picture breaking one of those wretched muskets over a soldier's head. Another step and visualise a satisfying decapitation. The bloody images were almost enough to distract her from the bolts of pain that every step caused.
</p>
<p>Xena continued the grisly game all the way down the steep hill and towards the distant greenery.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>XENA: "Always looking out for me?"
</p>
<p>GABRIELLE: "Always."
</p>
<p>Gabrielle tasted bile in the back of her throat. Long ago she had progressed past hearing the thoughts Xena consciously aimed at her, past receiving only those thoughts that contained herself. Gabrielle saw Xena's life constantly, like a play being performed in the corner of her mind... unless she concentrated on blocking the steady stream of pictures and sensations.
</p>
<p>Today that wasn't a situation she was comfortable with.
</p>
<p>The ambush and Xena's wounding had been hard to handle. Gabrielle had been relieved when her immortal beloved had collapsed into sleep. Today however was even worse. The purposeful visualising of the warlord's intended revenge was brutal. The combination of Xena's own pain and that gruesome flow of planning pushed Gabrielle's need to respond to a desperate level.
</p>
<p>The Bard tried balancing out Xena's fury. She walked through the convoluted village that made up the core of Gabrielle's afterlife. She paused to take in the sight of her Amazon Regent, Ephiny, standing in a garden kissing her centaur husband. The couple were content in the constant, peaceful NOW of the afterlife. Gabrielle could call out and they would invite her to join them for a picnic in a nearby meadow as they had thousands of times before. If she went then Ephiny and Phantes would act as if it were the first time, as they did every time. Trying to talk seriously about the living world was hard to do when those you spoke to had absolutely no sense of passing time.
</p>
<p>It branded Gabrielle as different, having her soulmate still alive. That connection fed her knowledge of time and change. Unlike all her companions she knew when day turned to night and another day came.
</p>
<p>A brief walk took her to a shadow of her hometown of Potadeia. Mother and father would be just around one corner. Gabrielle's sister, Lila, and the man she married might be one street over... although sometimes Lila was just a kid living with mother and father. Gabrielle's mood altered the reality she strode through.
</p>
<p>Over a rise, off to her right, she would be able to find Xena's brothers and perhaps Solon, as well. He had a bit more understanding than most in regards to Gabrielle's situation. Being Xena's son he drifted through the immortal warrior's thoughts as well, linking him to the outside world, but the bonding was no where near as strong as the tie Xena had with the Bard, the other half of her soul.
</p>
<p>A particularly disgusting image of vengeance from Xena's mind caused Gabrielle's steps to falter. This was very bad. If she couldn't find some way to keep her lover from falling into the darkness then both of them would spend the next hundred years or more struggling with Xena's self-loathing at the failing.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>GABRIELLE  (to Xena): "You promise, if anything happens to me you won't become a monster."
</p>
<p>The mud plastered over her face itched but Xena didn't dare scratch. Considering the full brightness of the moon, if her dirt mask were to flake away she would likely be seen. Although her wounds were mostly healed, the ensuing fever and infection had left a legacy of weakness lingering in her badly abused body. Xena didn't want an all out battle, at least not yet. 
</p>
<p>The warrior kept low to the ground and watched the activity across the meadow. If she was going to steal from someone it might as well be from those who had taken everything from her. The French army owed her a home, a mount, her last years savings... everything but the sword on her back. "Stealing back a few supplies is nothing by comparison, beloved." Xena mindspoke. "Nothing, compared to what I'm going to do to them once I'm recovered." The woman tried to ignore that these weren't in fact the exact same men. Their anonymous uniforms made them painfully easy to meld together in her mind. "If they weren't cut of the same cloth they'd be home with their families, where they belonged." She argued.
</p>
<p>"Smug bastards." The hidden woman belittled. "So secure that their brutality has cowed the locals." Despite the proximity of a village, not two hours walk away, the patrol's perimeter line was awkwardly designed and shoddily executed. It was going to be easy slipping inside their defences. She intended to snatch some gear and slit a few throats for fun and cover along the way. A bit of medicine would be nice but highly unlikely. Ammunition, tea leaves, and waybread were more probable.
</p>
<p>Xena held tight to the pair of knives she had liberated on her last raid and wiggled forward over the scrubby rise. Her less than optimal condition and the stillness of the night forced her to move at a bare crawl. 
</p>
<p>Any thoughts of Gabrielle were banished. Her beloved didn't need to be privy to what she was about to do. The truth was over the last fortnight Xena's mental conversations with the dead bard had sharply declined in frequency and depth. It was an unconscious defence against confronting how much her recent actions would disappoint Gabrielle.
</p>
<p>Three of the soldiers were separated from the other men by the campfire and a slight mounding of the ground. Their ammo belts and packs were her current objective.
</p>
<p>It took what felt like an hour for her to reach the first snoring figure. Now was not the time for hesitation or regret. Xena laid one knife down within easy reach then edged in for the kill. One hand tight across the mouth as her other blade sliced. That neatly did the job. The man bucked at the restraint only a fraction of a second before going limp again. Xena pulled his blanket higher to shroud the situation from a casual observer.
</p>
<p>One of the men got out a short squeak of protest before dying but luckily it was her third and last target.
</p>
<p>Getting out with the three heavy ammo belts and a pair of bulky packs was more challenging than sneaking up. She had to forsake the careful slither that had brought her in. Xena waited for the sentries to get to the point on the far side of the campfire where they paused almost every time to speak for a moment before continuing on their paths.
</p>
<p>Having saved her energy for this, Xena hoisted her burdens and ran back the way she had come, bent slightly under the weight of her stolen supplies. She didn't wait to listen for an uproar. All that mattered was getting back to her picketed horse. Once mounted it wouldn't matter if her visit were discovered. None of this patrol had horses.
</p>
<p>Xena waited until she was back in the security of the cave she was using as a hideout and settled in before examining her haul for the evening. When the first pack produced a small sheath of letters tied with a blue ribbon. Xena grimaced and quickly fed the bundle into her tiny fire. So what if the notes were from a mother or a wife and children. It was too late for that man anyway. There was no sense in beating herself up over a done deal. Her conscience, which had begun using Gabrielle's voice within months of meeting the now dead bard, whispered objections in the back of Xena's head. Those letters had threatened to put a name and background to what the warrior needed to keep a faceless body.  "They were necessary casualties." The dark-haired woman snarled down at the small, carved horse one of the sidepockets had produced. She closed her hand on it a moment, cutting the shape into her palm before heaving the thing into the consuming flames. It wouldn't do to think on the significance of the wooden toy. "These men were soldiers. They knew the risks." Xena argued against her guilt. Of course part of her realised that her statement skirted the edge of a lie. There was no way the men expected to come up against an immortal, someone with no care for her own life... who would just keep up the battle despite everything.
</p>
<p>Finally food. Her pleasure at finding a few hard buns, some wilted carrots, and the bottle of dark broth quickly over-powered any other emotion. The cook-pot she had taken from her last set of victims was actually going to get use tonight.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>SCULLY: "Mulder where are you? The drunk tank!!!!!?"
</p>
<p>Withdrawing to the back corner of the crowded cell wasn't much help in escaping from the heavy smells of urine, vomit, and alcohol but it did put two walls behind his back. The sniggers and taunts of his cellmates at the contrast between his arrogant bearing and his shoddy appearance were too much to handle after what he'd been through.
</p>
<p>He should have stayed at the party his sensible side insisted. Pretty Spanish noblewomen had been flirting with him. Visiting English beauties had flocked around him. Even the men had gathered about, wanting to hear stories of the Canadian wilderness and his skirmishes with the Americans. Lieutenant-Colonel William "Fox" Mulder had been the toast of the ball, and bored out of his skull. So the Canadian had pleaded weariness and slipped out and away from the glittering reception.
</p>
<p>Right now that hot, perfume-heavy ballroom would be a welcome alternative. Instead he was in a dirty cell with the dregs of the city, having been mistaken for a thieving, double-dealing deadbeat. The hotel owner and the city guard had ignored his claims of being robbed. Mulder was the one sleeping off a binge in the unpaid room without a cent on him or even a scrap of clothing. Maybe if he could have argued in Spanish they might have taken him more seriously or at least called his friends. Instead he was dressed in prickly rags, hunched up in the city jail.
</p>
<p>One of Mulder's cellmates took a step in his direction. Fox glowered, trying to project more energy than he possessed right now. The interloper laughed at his display but he did retreat.
</p>
<p>His stomach pitched and ached from something he had ingested the night before. The tiny, but deep cut at the side of his throat itched, as did the bites Alex had inflicted on his neck and chest. Oddly, Fox hadn't noticed how severe they were when the younger man was inflicting them. Much to Mulder's delight the provoking demeanour Alex had displayed down in the tavern had persisted right through the actual encounter. The younger man had been both a task and a pleasure.
</p>
<p>Alex 'son of a rabid whore' Krycek was going to pay if Fox ever laid eyes on that rat-bastard again. He'd carve something more into Krycek's letter scarred shoulder besides initials... and then leave the knife embedded a few inches when he was finished. There was no way Mulder had drunk enough to justify the kind of stupor he had fallen into after Alex left. The little weasel must have spiked the farewell drink he insisted Fox have before leaving for his own room. "It's your own damned fault. Idiot." Not so strangely, whenever William berated himself, the internal abuse sounded just like his father, William Senior. "Pretty girls were hanging on your every word but NO, you had to find someone 'interesting'. Damned fool." Mulder scowled. What was he thinking, taking someone he'd barely known for two hours up to his room. He'd lost everything, his money, his orders, his clothes and a good chunk of his self-respect because those dangerous green eyes, and the attitude behind them, had seemed an intriguing challenge.
</p>
<p>Now Mulder was going to be late reporting to Lord Wellington... assuming he could even convince someone to contact the English military and confirm his story. The worst part was that on one level Fox didn't completely regret his decisions. Even now, all those vacant-eyed bits of parlour decoration put together didn't attract him as much as the lowlife sneak who had robbed him. "Stump brained idiot." One of Father's knife sharp rants slashed into William's mind. "What kind of sick pup prefers half-breed Indian sluts to a properly raised lady?" Never mind trying to argue that Eyota wasn't a slut but a warrior as skilled as Fox himself and twice as courageous. Mulder had teased the Indian woman, suggesting she was an Amazon in another life. He then had to explain exactly what he meant by the word. Eyota had laughed in his face, finding the concept of an all-female tribe quite ridiculous. "Silly Fox, where would the children come from?" The Indian woman had pushed him backwards into the stream they were sitting beside and accused him of making the whole idea up. Christ! He missed her and the other Rangers. 
</p>
<p>And if Father ever found out about the men... now there was a fear that made Mulder's blood run cold. Fox would be both castrated and disowned or dead within minutes of the old man discovering the complete extent of his son's depravity.
</p>
<p>Now he had to worry about the army discovering his somewhat indecent predilection thanks to this fiasco with Alex. If the soldiers Fox had encountered back home were any indication this could ruin his career before it even started. "Bloody hell." Mulder scraped a hand back through his hair and snarled at another prisoner who ventured too close.
</p>
<p>A 'properly raised lady' was waiting on him. Father and a few of his cronies had arranged a deal with a cash strapped Irish Earl. The Earl was giving Mulder Junior his eldest daughter's hand in marriage in exchange for enough money to keep the man's family and estates afloat. True to form and confident he was doing the right thing... William's father had eagerly bought his son a military commission, a bride, and an impending noble title to further his own dreams of joining the old world gentry. The announcement of the commission in Wellington's army and his betrothal had almost sent Fox running into the western wilderness with his coureur du bois friends. Skinner and the men would have welcomed another strong back to help on the voyage. Mulder had shown himself as a useful addition to their company in the past. 
</p>
<p>Mulder's little sister Samantha was the only thing that kept him from fleeing.  Father had snarled about duty and honour. Mother had simpered about how Samantha could only benefit if William could take his sister out of Canada and introduce her to decent society. Sam herself had coaxed, wheedled, and reminded her big brother that the change would put an ocean between him and father, for a while at least. The lure of that kind of independence and his dread of what father would force Sam into if William refused proved his undoing.
</p>
<p>The metal door clanged, rousing Mulder out of his internal musings.
</p>
<p>The guard pompously announced something in Spanish. His finger stabbed out, choosing a small lot of men and motioning them to the exit.
</p>
<p>Fox climbed to his feet and strode over, only to have an open palm shoved in his face. Everything about the guard's tone of voice and his body language denied Mulder.
</p>
<p>"I'm a Lieutenant-Colonel in the British army. Lord Wellington himself is waiting for me to report in." Mulder willed those words or at least Wellington's name to penetrate the language barrier.
</p>
<p>The sentence did draw an examining look, but then it got a laugh and another burst of unrecognisable Spanish.
</p>
<p>"He says you wait some longer, English." One of the men lined up to leave translated. "That he not be caring if that King from English be your best friend. You wait."
</p>
<p>"But I... " Mulder's protest was cut off by a hard shove from the jailer and a warning shake of a fist. "Fine... I'll wait." Fox backed away, holding his hands up in surrender. "But you're going to be sorry later for how you're treating me." The Canadian warned. He returned to his spot, roundly cursing the guard, Spain, intoxicating green eyes, his father, and himself for being such a fool that he had let this happen.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>MULDER: "I would never lie; I willfully participate in a campaign of misinformation."
</p>
<p>Aleksandr Krycek kept himself quietly off to the side of the main group of men. He had discovered that as long as he stayed near the sunlit fabric of the tent and didn't draw attention to himself it was unlikely that he would be sent away from the command centre. He needed to gather as much intelligence as he could in the shortest time possible.  Alek cursed himself for the unexpected spark of reluctance that had stopped his knife at the last possible moment. He really should have slit William Mulder's throat back in Madrid. What was one more death on his conscience at this point in his life? As it was the threat of Mulder showing up to expose Aleksandr as an impostor hung over his head. Luckily, his victim was not likely to show up too quickly. Leaving the man naked and without possessions, in an unpaid room seriously cut into the possibility of Mulder's tracking him down promptly.
</p>
<p>Three different conversations carried on around him. Leaning over a map, Lord Wellington and one of the higher-ranking officers were debating the merits of two different approaches to a nearby castle. In a back corner of the tent a supply officer and a clerk were discussing how low the provisions of meat and cheese had grown over the last fortnight. Nearest to Aleksandr was Wellington's spymaster, Hogan, telling the tale of a particularly nasty Spanish partisan who was hacking and slashing her way through French patrols. It seemed 'La Princesa Guerrera' was single-handedly taking a healthy chunk out of Napoleon's nearby forces. Hogan seemed undecided whether he should send out a small force to offer the woman aid and direction or simply let her ravage undisturbed.
</p>
<p>Aleksandr shifted slightly to see past a shoulder. The many maps spread over Wellington's desk were all marked with arrows and lines. He set to imprinting the information on his remarkable memory.
</p>
<p>"What's your take on armed civilians, Colonel Mulder?" 
</p>
<p>Hogan's question came at the moment Aleksandr least expected it. Alek couldn't help but wonder if the timing of the query had been chosen purposefully. "They've proved invaluable back home." Aleksandr responded. "The Indians, I mean." He clarified trying to recall everything he had ever heard of North America. "They don't have to be properly supplied or paid on a regular basis... and officially we aren't responsible for damage that they may cause." This was more familiar territory. "It's a convenient way to inflict losses on the enemy." Aleksandr was pleased that response seemed intelligent enough. Still, he was constantly regretting he hadn't spent more time pumping Mulder for information on his recent career.
</p>
<p>"I should think 'the Fox' had more than his share of backwoods allies over in the Canadas." A young Major chuckled. "That's what they called you over there, wasn't it Colonel?"
</p>
<p>"Yes, it was." Mulder's brandy rough voice saying 'my friends call me Fox' was quite firmly embedded in Alek's mind. Aleksandr shrugged. "But that was there. I expect I need to prove myself all over again." He needed to turn the topic of the conversation. His alcohol encouraged interrogation of the real William Mulder hadn't been nearly extensive enough for his stolen persona to stand up to intense questioning. "Has this 'La Princesa Guerrera' done any harm to the English cause, Sir?"
</p>
<p>"Not yet, no." Hogan seemed to be studying the new Lieutenant Colonel rather more closely than the situation warranted. 
</p>
<p>"Well, you would know best how to handle this situation, Sir." Aleksandr attempted to convey admiration in both his tone and expression. "You are the expert."
</p>
<p>The tent flaps flicked open and "It's Major Sharpe, my Lord." was announced gravely by a teenage Lieutenant.
</p>
<p>"He's back, good." Wellington looked up from his work. "Send him in." The Commander of the Army glanced over at the newcomer to their midst. "Step up here Colonel Mulder. Major Sharpe will be your guide from now until you settle in. He'll be taking you out to see the lay of the land."
</p>
<p>So he was finally going to meet the man Ducos had ordered him to kill if the opportunity ever arose. The French spymaster had an absolute hatred for Sharpe. The rumours Aleksandr had heard told of the English Officer making a fool of Ducos and causing him to lose favour with Napoleon and the General staff. 
</p>
<p>Alek tugged his stolen green jacket straight and put on his most earnest expression. During the last two days he had maintained his pretence of being Lieutenant-Colonel Mulder by deflecting the attention anyone had given him back on the questioner.  A perfect method considering the English officer class, as big a bunch of blowhards as Alek had ever come across. He was definitely going to have to change this tactic in order to deal with the Major, considering the man's history and reputation.
</p>
<p>The door flapped again. All eyes lifted to the travel-stained figure entering their clean, uniformed group.
</p>
<p>"Ah, Major Sharpe." Wellington seemed genuinely pleased. "We've been waiting for you."
</p>
<p>"M'lord." Sharpe's dusty blonde head bobbed.
</p>
<p>Wellington beckoned Aleksandr closer. "This is Lieutenant-Colonel William Mulder the third." He paused for effect. His tone had skirted the edge of mocking at the unwieldy title but no one would dare to call his Lordship on it. "Your new commanding officer." Was added with a hint of humour.
</p>
<p>Sharpe stared, taking in the freshly-made green rifleman's uniform and youth of his new commander.
</p>
<p>"Colonel Mulder distinguished himself as a Ranger against the Americans over in the Canadas." Wellington elaborated. "Hogan means to use Mulder to infiltrate the French."
</p>
<p>Hogan took this as his cue to join the conversation. "Colonel Mulder speaks the Frogs' own tongue and is quite the sharpshooter as well, or so I'm told. That should help him fit in with your lot, Sharpe. " Hogan remarked. "The Colonel has also pulled a few tricky manoeuvres over on those ruddy Americans. By his'self, he lost a patrol of them in the woods then set to picking them off one at time over the next several days. He had 'em trying to run home with their tails between their legs before he finished them off." That drew a chuckle or three around the tent. "Your skill at using the land against those American upstarts is what earned you the nickname 'the Fox', isn't it, Sir?"
</p>
<p>"Damned if I know." Aleksandr ducked his head slightly. "I can only hope to live up to your expectations, Sir." He deflected. 
</p>
<p>"If half the tales I've had of you prove true... " Hogan trailed off. "Our man Sharpe is just the one to show you the countryside. The Major has quite the way with our local Partisans as well. Eventually I'm hoping you can toss Mulder off to your contacts, Sharpe."
</p>
<p>The line of Sharpe's mouth was grim. "As you wish, Sir." He nodded to his new commander. "Lieutenant-Colonel Mulder." 
</p>
<p>"Major Sharpe." Aleksandr extended his hand. "I've heard about your exploits. You are the same Major Sharpe who took an imperial Eagle at Talavera, are you not? The one who saved Lord Wellington's life?"
</p>
<p>"Aye Sir, that would be me." The other man earned a nod but Sharpe's hand showed no sign of returning the handshake.  
</p>
<p>"This is quite an honour, Major. I hope to prove myself worthy of your fine tutelage." He stepped closer, hoping that distance was the reason for Sharpe's non-response. If his fawning attitude to a lessor officer raised eyebrows in the tent Alek didn't much care. It was important this man trust, and perhaps, like him.
</p>
<p>"Sir." After a little more hesitation Sharpe shook his new commander's hand firmly and ventured a spare smile.
</p>
<p>Aleksandr offered up his most dazzling grin. He examined the older man discreetly. Major Sharpe was a rather impressive piece of work. Handsome, in a rough way and if his uniform was a bit scuffed up, well, the man's rifle looked to be in prime condition. He seemed a dangerously competent man, compared to usual parade ground officers that seemed to abound in the British ranks. No wonder Ducos wanted him dead. 
</p>
<p>"So what did you come across on patrol, Major Sharpe." Wellington interrupted, breaking them apart.
</p>
<p>"Nothing extraordinary, M'lord. We caught wind of some rumours." Richard Sharpe snapped a little straighter. "It's said that the partisans have been up to a bit of slaughter and several French patrols have been massacred... but we saw nothing first hand." Sharpe added, almost as an afterthought. "We ended up escorting a supply caravan in, M'lord. We hooked up with them late yesterday. I believe it's already begun unloading."
</p>
<p>That caused a stir of movement in the back of the tent as two men excused themselves to tend to new arrivals.
</p>
<p>"Nothing else?" Wellington regarded Sharpe.
</p>
<p>"No M'lord."
</p>
<p>"Very well." Lord Wellington nodded and waved his hand from Sharpe and Aleksandr to the doorway. "That will be all gentlemen. I will talk to you first thing tomorrow morning about a mission."
</p>
<p>"Milord." The honorarium escaped them both. The two men withdrew from the command centre.
</p>
<p>"How much action did you see in Canada, Sir?" Sharpe covertly inspected the rifle slung across the other man's back.
</p>
<p>"Just Mulder, if you please, Major. I spent most of my time in the wilderness and to be honest I don't have much patience with the rigid structure of the army." Aleksandr gazed at the horizon. "I'm looking forward to the change in scenery... the challenge of new opponents." He side-stepped the topic of Mulder's past yet again. "I took a look at our Regiment yesterday. You've done an excellent job with them. I was thinking of running them through a drill. I've heard of your claim that the best of your soldiers can get off three shots a minute. That's something worth seeing."
</p>
<p>"All my men can do three rounds a minute... in any weather." Richard paused then added. "Sir."
</p>
<p>"I stand corrected. Maybe you'll join me as I drill the troops."
</p>
<p>"Sir, before you get started on that... " Sharpe interrupted. "As I said inside, my men and I hooked up with a caravan on our way back from patrol." He hitched his head in the direction of a hive of activity to the south. "Miss Scully, your fiancee, was among the arrivals. I left her in the care of my Sergeant... meaning to look you up after my report."
</p>
<p>Aleksandr's posture went stiff and his face paled to bloodless white. "My fiancee... " The words were shocked out of him. "With your Sergeant?"
</p>
<p>Richard Sharpe's brow knitted at the other man's reaction. "Not to worry, Sir. Sergeant Harper is Irish too. He's simply talking over the news from home. Harper's a married man."
</p>
<p>Aleksandr clamped down on his self-control. Mulder hadn't mentioned a woman was waiting on him. Of course, the situation didn't exactly encourage that kind of confidence. Aleksandr forced a smile. "I'm sure Sergeant Harper is a perfect gentlemen... and being more accustomed to the camp he must know exactly where to settle my future bride." His mind raced. "I'll get round and pay my respects... but it will have to wait until after I drill the men. One never knows when the fighting will erupt and I need to have the measure of the men as swiftly as possible."
</p>
<p>Sharpe's head tipped back slightly to stare at his new commander. "As you say Sir."
</p>
<p>"Please, just Mulder." Aleksandr repeated. "Do stop by the range later Sharpe. I'd love to hear the tale of Talavera first hand... as well as some of your other battles. I'm sure I've got a lot to learn from you. I've been too long on my own in the woods." He laughed. "I'm a little rusty at anything large scale." Aleksandr put some distance between them. "See you later, Sharpe."
</p>
<p>Richard watched the retreat for a few breaths then shrugged and went in search of Harper.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>XENA:  "This is war! What did you expect? Glamour? There are no good choices only lesser degrees of evil." 
</p>
<p>Xena urged her horse into a punishing gallop. The gap between her and the French courier that she was chasing closed quickly. Her mount was fresh while his had been travelling the entire day. Gripping the animal tighter with her legs the warrior reached over her shoulder and unsheathed her sword with a quick flowing movement. A quick battle cry was the last thing the fleeing man heard before the edge of her blade caught the crook of his shoulder and sliced sideways.
</p>
<p>The man's death throes provoked a panicked burst of energy in the horse. Xena had to follow the animal a good ten minutes before she could lean across and grab hold of it's flapping reins. After a quick look around Xena led the horse over into the scanty cover of some nearby trees. 
</p>
<p>She ransacked the man's pouches with cold efficiency. As she suspected they contained coded orders and a map with all sorts of obscure symbols pencilled on it. It would require some study before she would be able to make heads or tails of the information.
</p>
<p>Xena tore off all the marks that identified the packs and horse as French, tossed the hanging body into the underbrush, and tied the new animal to hers. Her hand ran down the golden fur of the courier's mount. This was a beast worth keeping, clean lined and fast as the wind. If she hadn't ambushed the Frenchman he might have outrun her without too much trouble.
</p>
<p>The sight of her grimy fingers in the short, pale hair brought back hazy memories of another mount long turned to dust. Disturbingly enough, the name of that cherished mare refused to surface in her mind right now. Her forehead fell forward against warm, musky flesh three times, willing the memory to surface. "Argo." She finally decided with a sense of satisfaction. Her mind's eye provided a vision of her beloved cautiously catching hold of the big animal's reins. Equating an elusive memory with Gabrielle always made it easier to retrieve. 
</p>
<p>"So many losses, beloved. " Xena sighed, running her eyes over the horse's clean lines. "I just can't keep taking it. I need you to understand that. Sometimes fighting back is the only way to do it. " She climbed back up into her own saddle.  "Maybe I've gone a little bit overboard but... " A nudge of her knee set the horse going. "They brought the fight to me. I didn't go looking for it." 
</p>
<p>A dull ache in her midsection reminded Xena of the agony she'd recently been through. The healing still wasn't complete. "I might have been able to stay out of it if they'd stuck to bashing each other's brains out, beloved, but I couldn't stand by, not after seeing the price this war demanded of my friends." 
</p>
<p>Everything about her life had become transient. The sights and sounds she knew in her youth were long gone. Xena had watched empires rise and fall over the last two thousand years. The house she had been born in was ancient dust blowing across the countryside. Good friends were so rare that her heart demanded she cherish what little time she had in their company. "How can I allow them to be taken away from me without demanding retribution, beloved?"
</p>
<p>The horse following behind tossed its head nervously at some scent on the evening breeze, skittering sideways. Xena shushed it absently, scanning the surrounding countryside for any threat. Being constantly on alert was hard but she didn't dare let anyone else join up with her now. Things were on the edge of becoming very nasty. The warrior could feel the darkness bubbling up inside her each time she came across some new atrocity committed by the occupying soldiers. 
</p>
<p>"I can hold it together, but really... what's the point? These men don't respond to anything but violence so that's what I have to use. People haven't changed much. We knew that sort. By Hades, I WAS that sort for a time." Xena sighed, glancing up at the sky then across the fields. "Perhaps it's time I shifted my tactics, my love. I think it's time to fade into the darkness. No, not like that." She pacified. "I would be far more comfortable at night. It helps to even the odds." Xena grimaced. The tactics of death weren't something Gabrielle would be pleased to hear about. The warrior stopped the internal dialogue. 
</p>
<p>She regretted some of the bloodier images of revenge she had inflicted on her soulmate during her recovery. The gentle Bard would be worried about the state Xena was in, worried that her tenuous control was slipping. "Don't worry, I'm all right, beloved. I can handle it." She assured. 
</p>
<p>Her toe poked at the courier's pouch she had taken earlier. The next time she ran across a safe contact the documents needed to be passed on. "The British may be able to use this information to move forward. The sooner they drive the French out of Spain, the sooner I can try and get on with my life." Xena realised the war was hard on the Spanish people but the British seemed the lesser of two evils. Wellington actually made an effort to keep his men from ravaging the countryside as they advanced. 
</p>
<p>She returned her concentration to the world about her and the mission she had set for herself with a weary sigh. Tomorrow might require more killing but that wasn't something Xena wanted to hash over with Gabrielle, or her conscience. Sometimes it was easier not to speak to the Bard than it was to justify actions that the other half of her soul had taught the Warrior were wrong.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>MULDER: "I know the difference between expectation and hope."
</p>
<p>The girl had impressed Harper from the first moment of their meeting. Leaning out the window of her coach, caught by a stray beam of sunlight, the girl had seemed a vision. She had offered up the traditional greeting of a small silver flask and a shy smile as soon as his accent touched her ears. The brandy was some of the smoothest he had ever tasted, and Patrick Harper prided himself of being an excellent judge of alcohol.
</p>
<p>Miss Scully was a tiny Irish beauty with carrot red hair, bright blue eyes and a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her small nose. Of course, her trim waist and the ample curve of her breasts were a nice touch too. It turned out she was a sweetheart as well. A fine, sensible girl, undisturbed by the soldiers' scruffy state. Quite unlike the wilting English blonde who had been sharing her coach. Her company had been a happy addition to the gathering about the fire the night before. The girl had told a sprightly story about fairies, a saucer of milk and her neighbour's prize pig.
</p>
<p>Harper couldn't help but think it a damn shame that she was here to marry a Lieutenant Colonel. In his experience a good many of the higher-ranking officers were either idiots, cads or both. Harper's misgivings grew even stronger as the girl admitted she had never actually met her intended husband.
</p>
<p>"Of course, I've been exchanging letters with his sister ever since Da first started talking about the marriage." Dana qualified, tucking away the locket she had eagerly shown her new friend. Mulder's picture was too small for much more detail than dark hair and a faintly youthful face but Dana had smiled down at the jewellery-encased portrait. "Samantha speaks very highly of William. She sent me an Indian thing he made... a gift just for me." She smoothed the fabric of her dress. "And William himself wrote to me once, the most touching letter I've ever seen... though he's been terrible busy."
</p>
<p>Patrick Harper and Miss Scully were standing at the edge of a whirlwind of activity. Newly arrived supply wagons were at the centre of the bustle.
</p>
<p>"How long have you been fighting Patrick?" She used his first name as he had insisted the night before.
</p>
<p>It sounded good to Harper, hearing his name on the lips of a pretty Irish girl after so long in Spain. "Feels like forever, Miss." Patrick spotted Sharpe weaving through the crowd. "Here comes the Major now." Oddly enough, no strange Colonel walked with him. "No luck, Sir?" Harper asked. "I could take Miss Dana about... look for him."
</p>
<p>"No need for that Pat." Richard shook his head. "It turns out Colonel Mulder is our new commanding officer. I met him in Lord Wellington's tent." Sharpe resisted the urge to duck his head and not look the girl in the eye. "I told him you were here, lass, but he's drilling the regiment right now. I'm sure he means to look you up afterwards."
</p>
<p>Dana's disappointment was painfully clear on her face. She forced a smile however. "Of course he's at his duties. His sister Samantha warned me that he was constantly away from home... " A strand of red hair was caught and tucked behind an ear. "William takes his duties ever so seriously."
</p>
<p>"Let me escort you to your quarters Miss Dana." Harper offered.
</p>
<p>"Posh Patrick." Dana objected playfully. "That wife you've been telling me of is no doubt waiting impatiently on you. Be off with you." She scolded. "I would dearly like to meet Ramona and the wee one though. I'll come find your camp after I've settled in and perhaps William will be there by then." With one last smile the young woman walked off in the direction her luggage had taken earlier.
</p>
<p>Harper watched the green skirt vanish into the crowd. "If I were a few years younger... " He trailed off.
</p>
<p>"Ramona would still kick your arse." Richard chuckled.
</p>
<p>Harper joined in on the laugh a moment then sobered. "What kind of man would keep a sweet girl like that waiting on him?"
</p>
<p>"A dedicated officer I suppose." Sharpe guessed. "Come on. Let's get cleaned up, have a cup of tea...then we'll head over to the drilling ground and see for sure what kind of man he is."
</p>
<p>They made their way over to where the South Essex billeted. A small crisp tent was set up right beside Sharpe's quarters. Patrick and Richard exchanged a look, surprised at the location of what must be Mulder's lodgings.
</p>
<p>All around the nearest campfire the men looked up.
</p>
<p>"New officer." Harris spoke over his steaming mug.
</p>
<p>"Aye." Sharpe acknowledged as he scrounged up his own battered cup. "I met him briefly."
</p>
<p>"An odd fish by all accounts so far." The seated rifleman continued. "They say he's kind of twitchy... doesn't hold still long enough to say much." Harris took a sip of tea. "And the lad that collected him from Madrid is eager to share the tale of his first sighting of the Colonel. He came running over before we'd even sat down."
</p>
<p>"Whatcha mean, Harris?" Sharpe asked, taking a nearby seat.
</p>
<p>"It seems that when Johnson banged on the Colonel's door and called him... Mulder poked his head out the room across the hall."  Harris laughed, recalling the look on Johnson's face as he told the story. "So Johnson twisted around, right quick, and catches an eyeful. Mulder's looking a mite on the flustered side... only half dressed and he's got company on the bed behind him."
</p>
<p>Harper spat into the fire. "And him with that bonny girl waiting on him." Patrick was frowning and shaking his dark head. "Poor girl."
</p>
<p>A shrug was Sharpe's response. He would wait to see what kind of soldier the man was. Mulder's personal life wasn't his concern.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>GABRIELLE: "More hot sand. Touring the world is sure tough on shoes."
</p>
<p>The road north out of Madrid was hot and very dusty as she hiked towards where she had been told Wellington's advancing forces had pushed the retreating French.
</p>
<p>"I wish I didn't need to wear all these clothes." She complained to no one, plucking at where her sweat had plastered the loose shirt to her skin. "My old outfit would be so much more comfortable in this heat, although it really would make me stand out. Still, at least I'm not stuck in that corset and dress." She grimaced "That was truly uncomfortable."
</p>
<p>Although the world seemed strange to her and much of what she had seen on her journey surprised her, she had quickly realised that Xena had taught her many of the things she needed to know to live in this time. Gabrielle wondered if her warrior knew that every time she "talked" to her bard, she was teaching her soulmate about the changes the world had gone through in the time since her death. Everything from the geography of the modern world to what denominations of money were worth had come to Gabrielle through their bond. She had even learned twelve different languages over the course of two thousand years. Xena usually drifted to thinking in whatever the local language was after she had been living in one spot more than a few years. Her mindvoice would follow the change when speaking to Gabrielle not even pausing to wonder whether it would translate.
</p>
<p>"It's funny to think about how when we were together you wouldn't say much to me at all. Since I crossed over you talked to me more in a day than you used to in a week."
</p>
<p>Speaking aloud was a defence against the months of inner silence, a part of the price for stepping out into the real world. She now lacked Xena's mindvoice, a constant companion for two millennia. It had made her feel very lonely and, at first, afraid. The world was a very different place now and no matter how much she had learned from Xena's observations over the years the adjustment had been hard. The world was much larger and had more people in it. When she saw her first big city she stood in awe at its size.
</p>
<p>"When you first took me to Athens I was stunned by how vast it was. Now the city I recall was barely a tenth the size it is now. It's a good thing that it had not grown as far as the cave where you stashed those supplies years ago. I wouldn't have made it this far without that money for clothes and transport."
</p>
<p>Gabrielle felt Xena would be proud of how far she had travelled on her own. Living off the land wasn't really new to her but having to keep attention away from herself and still interact with the people around her was a challenge. She knew an independent woman travelling alone wasn't normal in these days and that alone could cause problems she didn't have time or patience for. Thankfully, when she felt the attention grow a little too close, she was able to use charm and money to remain unnoticed. Some things really haven't changed at all. 
</p>
<p>The dust cloud that was raised by the supply caravan travelling ahead of her had settled. Gabrielle realised it meant that they had halted for a rest. Some short trees to her right offered shelter from the mid-day sun so she angled her steps there. Leaning the staff against the tree and removing her shoulder bag, the bard settled in what little shade there was.
</p>
<p>"As good a place as any to have lunch" she said while removing some leftover breakfast from her sack. "It was lucky I was able to find this caravan. Following it to the fighting is better than wandering alone." 
</p>
<p>She knew the soldiers, acting as escorts, should deter anyone from bothering the supply train and hoped to share in that security. Gabrielle followed close enough so that she wouldn't have to get directions to where the fighting was, but not so close as to make them suspicious of her " I know you're near where the armies are, lover." 
</p>
<p>The bard glanced toward the stopped caravan now and then to see if they had started to move again. As she finished her meal and was repacking her bag she noticed one of the soldiers was slowly riding toward her. " Not that you would miss these guys. The red coats they wear really stand out. " 
</p>
<p>Inside that self-same red coat 'Fox' William Mulder was cooking in his own sweat. Wearing heavy wool in this weather was absolutely insane but such were the dictates of the uniform. He urged his borrowed horse a little bit further so they could halt in the shade of some withered trees. Mulder had wanted a closer look at the person who had been trailing after the supply wagons for most of the day. The other soldiers had stated there wasn't much to worry about on such a well-travelled route as this but Fox needed to know that for himself. Besides it got him away from the two other officers in the company during the break... when boredom made carefully obscure, but nasty, comments on Mulder's difficulties in Madrid weasel into the conversation.
</p>
<p>Mulder gazed down at the traveller from his seat high atop his horse. A peasant, most likely farm raised considering the girl was wearing coarse spun pants. She carried a tall walking staff, a battered knapsack and a good portion of her full, blondish hair was tucked inside a scarf to keep the worst of the road dust off it. That suggested she had put in a fair bit of time on the road. Not local stock from the look of her, but there wasn't anything remarkable about the girl. There was no reason to either address the traveller or be concerned about her presence. It was after all, just a harmless little girl. Without speaking Mulder pulled a rein hard, clicking an order to his mount and turned his back on the stranger. Maybe he could quickly scoop up a bit of cold meat and bread then eat in the saddle now the line-up at the cook wagon had dissipated.
</p>
<p>Gabrielle waited until the soldier had silently turned away then flashed a grin at the man's stiff back. Her first reaction to his 'down the nose' inspection of her had been mild annoyance. Between that nose of his and the attitude the man seemed to be projecting he reminded her of a Roman officer looking over a barbarian but then again his abrupt dismissal of her meant she had been judged 'no threat'. She should be able to continue trailing the caravan without any interference from the escort.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>MULDER:    "When I first met you I figured you were just ambitious. This morning, my opinion changed. I thought you were arrogant. Now I'm beginning to wonder what you're protecting." </p>
<p>Aleksandr kept most of his attention on the men as they went through the motions of forming a square. He spared only a fraction of his mind noting Major Sharpe's gradual, roundabout approach. It wouldn't do to give Sharpe the impression that he wasn't completely enthralled by the regiment's movements.
</p>
<p>In reality Alek would rather have been on the far side of the camp from the drilling field and the nearby firing range. Whenever a shot went off in the near distance Aleksandr had to grit his teeth to keep from covering his ears and dropping to the trampled grass.  God, but he hated the sound of muskets firing.
</p>
<p>Sharpe was within a few feet now so Aleksandr looked up, composing a harmless admiring look on his face. There had been precious few people Alek had met since the French soldiers had taken his family's lands that didn't respond to mindless adoration. "Major Sharpe. My compliments." He smiled happily. "The men are so well trained they don't seem to even need my orders. You've done an excellent job with them."
</p>
<p>"Thank you, Sir." Sharpe nodded and looked over the field.
</p>
<p>Still 'Sir'. Aleksandr swallowed a sigh of annoyance. Sharpe was proving more difficult to manipulate than most of these British twits. He was going to need to deal differently with this Major. "The men aren't within hearing distance... Mulder really is fine with me." Alek insisted. "Do you prefer Sharpe or Richard?"<br/> 
</p>
<p>A slow blink prefaced the answer. "Sharpe will do fine... Mulder." The Major's discomfort with the familiarity came through in his tone.
</p>
<p>"How have they performed under fire so far?" Aleksandr returned to the safety of discussing the troops, carefully asking something that required more than a 'yes' or 'no' response.
</p>
<p>"They're a brave enough lot." Sharpe's attention was entirely on the drilling ground as he spoke. "There's not another regiment I'd rather serve with."
</p>
<p>The younger man refused to let the silence alone. "So, how fast can they get out of Squares and into lines?" Aleksandr tried putting a hint of provocation into his voice.
</p>
<p>Sharpe's posture tightened up just a little. "As fast as need be." The Major assured his new commander. "Send down the order and see for yourself."
</p>
<p>Alek allowed himself a smirk. What hollow flattery and coaxing hadn't accomplished, the challenge did. Sharpe was actually responding naturally for the first time. Aleksandr pulled in a deep breath and bellowed at the nearest Sergeant. "Lines! QUICKLY!" The authority in his tone may have left something to be desired but a much more experienced soldier relayed his wishes. The men scrambled to obey.
</p>
<p>A pleased smile tugged at the corner of Richard's mouth. "Quick enough, I'd say. Of course a good officer would see what's needed and give the order in plenty of time.
</p>
<p>"I'll do my best." Alek shrugged. "But you can't expect much from a shiny new kid like me I suppose." He teasingly invited derision that Sharpe would never dare give voice to. "I'm going over for a close look, Sharpe. Would you join me?"
</p>
<p>They had just reached the first soldier in the line when Aleksandr noticed another green clad rifleman approaching. The man was a bit taller than either Sharpe or himself with a healthy, broad-shouldered frame. Untidy black curls and rough shadowed cheeks gave the impression of a common soldier. Alek took one look at the newcomer, flashed back to the Sergeant from the force that had taken his family home, and felt both an immediate dislike and a touch of fear chill his soul. 
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>Aleksandr's father had died fairly quickly. Papa had insisted that the family not burn their holdings and flee in the face of the French army despite the Czar's orders. It was a mercy that he didn't live long enough to see what his foolishness had wrought. The screams from Mama and the girls had gone on a long time. Alek was certain it was Mama's blood plastered on the uniform of that bastard Sergeant when he came to find out what the fuss was near the stables. Blood had stained that dark, greasy hair as the Sergeant slicked it back, glaring down at where Aleksandr tried to shield his baby brother and last remaining sister, wildly wielding father's old sword. {A field mouse! You're letting a field mouse hold you off? I'll show you how to handle the likes of this one.} And he had, over and over again during the next few days.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Sharpe's meagre smile filled out at the arrival. He took no notice of the younger man's suddenly stiff posture. "Colonel Mulder, this is Sergeant Harper, the finest man I've ever had stand at my back." Richard introduced. "Harper, this is Miss Scully's intended and our new commander... Lieutenant Colonel Mulder."
</p>
<p>"Sergeant Harper." Aleksandr smiled tightly, fighting the urge to flinch as the Rifleman stepped closer. Malais was far from here... most likely drunk in cheap Parisian brothel waiting for Alek's return, the spy reminded himself. This was just another dull oaf he had to deceive, one that he currently outranked. "So, you're the gentleman that the Major set to minding my fiancee. Thank you."
</p>
<p>"My pleasure, Sir." Patrick Harper inclined his head. "Your Miss Scully's a rose of a girl. You're a damned lucky man."
</p>
<p>"Quite." Alek answered blankly. "Did you see Miss Scully settled in then?"
</p>
<p>"Aye Sir. The Quartermaster's given her a tent near the kitchens but Miss Scully isn't there right now." Harper elaborated. "The young Miss brought herself over to our site, sir, to call on my wife and perhaps yourself." A slight waver of emotion was bending the Sergeant's tone. "The short of things is... my son has been feeling poorly so your Miss Scully is tending on the baby. She's got quite the soothing manner, your Miss Scully does." Harper glanced briefly over his shoulder. "She tells me she did a little doctoring back on her father's lands. The good Lord knows we can always use another set of healing hands about here. My Ramona is thanking the Saints for your Miss Scully's arrival."
</p>
<p>Aleksandr took an unconscious step backwards, seizing on a way of getting rid of the Sergeant. "You must be worried sick over your little one, Sergeant. I can't see you spending your time here on a routine inspection when such as that is on your mind. I must insist that you return to site, Sergeant Harper." Alek gave it as an order. "Keep my fiancee as long as need be to tend your baby. I'm sure Miss Scully is best off in the company of your fine wife as anywhere in the camp." Aleksandr tore his eyes away from Harper's disturbing presence and looked at the waiting line of soldiers. "Would that I could come by and pay my respects to the Lady, but your sick child and my duties here must take precedence." The authority in his voice increased as Alek distanced himself from the looming Irishman. "Do tell her I'm thinking of her. Thank you Sergeant. You're excused."
</p>
<p>Harper frowned briefly at the quick dismissal. "Begging your pardon, Sir." He lingered. "But your Miss Scully did mention that some certain medicines might be just the thing for my little one. If yourself or the Major could see clear to intervening with the Army doctors they would most likely part with just the wee bit required."
</p>
<p>Aleksandr had wanted to keep Sharpe at his side so he could work on the Major but anything to get rid of the Sergeant and keep Mulder's inconvenient fiancee busy and away from him. Alek looked up from the musket he had taken into his hands. "Well then, Major Sharpe you should go along as well and see to it Miss Scully has everything she could possibly require. I can handle things here. You already know the men. This is entirely for my benefit anyway."
</p>
<p>"Aye Sir." Sharpe acknowledged over top of Harper's quiet thanks.
</p>
<p>"Off you go then." Aleksandr addressed the only one of the pair he would look in the eye, putting every bit of charm he had into the dismissal. "I'll see you later, Major." Alek smiled now. 
</p>
<p>"Aye Sir." Richard repeated, withdrawing and taking Harper with him.
</p>
<p>Aleksandr handed back the first musket and moved to the second soldier but his ears strained after the departing officers.
</p>
<p>"Not that I don't appreciate what he's doing... but he's a strange sort of man, Sir... that he hasn't come round to see his bonny lass, what with the way she's pining for him?" Harper mumbled softly.
</p>
<p>Sharpe tossed a glance back over their shoulders. "Cut him some slack, Pat. You do have to admire his dedication to the job... putting the men first, afore his social life."
</p>
<p>The rest of the conversation was lost as the divide between them increased. Aleksandr spared only a blink of his eyes to assure himself that the tall Sergeant was gone then put all his concentration on the inspection.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>XENA: "What's the matter, you having trouble getting inside my head right now? Let me help you." </p>
<p>Xena had wedged herself into the shattered remains of a church steeple. The ransacked building made a decent hide out and the high perch of the bell tower gave her a panoramic view of the surrounding countryside. The spyglass that she had liberated from a French officer a few days ago was coming in handy.
</p>
<p>That lot of Frog bastards hadn't been content with some abandoned building for night. They had taken over a cottage, using it as bandits might, careless of the hard work that had been put into stocking the larder. 
</p>
<p>"They would have killed that farmer to take what they wanted, beloved." She frowned at the landscape. "Maybe have hurt the children... probably raped his wife." Luckily the party hadn't progressed that far before luck and Xena's tracking skills brought her to the door. That small troop of French soldiers had been only one short step away from renegades. The officer hadn't held any semblance of control over the motley gang.
</p>
<p>"I know those two that ran away...  Chasing them down like that was a bit harsh but... " The only thing Xena hated more than French soldiers at this point in time were the scavengers. She despised the men who had fled authority from both sides of the conflict and now lived off pillaging people already abused and dispossessed by the war. They were worms to be ground underfoot.
</p>
<p>The warrior watched the small village down the hill from the deserted church for a time. Only a few people moved about. It might be safe to approach. Most of the locals had fled this area. It was too close to several prime battlegrounds. The villagers might come back once Wellington got off his ass and moved the front line further north where it belonged.
</p>
<p>"Maybe once the French are securely back inside their own boarders I could stop." She considered. "But what's to stop them from attacking again once our guard goes down? We have to finish it hard, beloved. That's the best way to insure they stay away from our homes."
</p>
<p>Her thoughts wandered. Xena rested her forehead against the sun-warmed stone. "Do you remember Daria, beloved?" The Warrior's smile was bittersweet. "How many years... ? It's been three or four hundred at least. That girl was forever climbing up into the most unlikely perches." The face wouldn't come clear. Only a halo of untidy brown curls and an imp's grin would form. Xena's mouth tightened in annoyance. She had spent six years in the company of the former thief. Granted, six years wasn't much when weighed against the over two thousand years worth of memories that crammed her skull, but... "How could I forget... ?" A moment of panic racked the immortal. With careful precision she attempted to visualise Gabrielle. Her mind's eye looked down. The Bard was shorter than she was, but then most women were, especially back in the old days. Blonde hair, more red tones in the winter, but in the summer as golden as the sun itself. Xena placed the emerging figure in a dappled woodland clearing, staff in hand with a sheath full of rolled scrolls tossed casually over one elegant shoulder. Make the hair long, Gabrielle's short locks had too many bad memories entangled in it. All right. Green eyes, sparkling green eyes accented with curving brows and thick blonde bangs. Long lashes, top and bottom. The image wavered uncertainly, squeezing Xena's heart painfully. Soft, pink lips, the bottom a bit heavier than the top. A small, straight nose and a stubborn, clearly defined chin. The Warrior's fingers twitched, wishing she could reach out and trace. Surely her fingers recalled even more than her mind. The body was lean, with a flat stomach, strong arms and smooth skin. A groan escaped. "I'd best put some clothes on you, beloved. The nights are cold enough as it is." The jest was weak. "I always liked that little green shirt and leather skirt." 
</p>
<p>When the picture finally solidified, her relief was a tangible thing. "If I ever forget what you look like... " The thought trailed off unfinished. The reality was that there was little she could do to prevent that situation besides this occasional game of visualisation and nothing she could do to repair the hurt if the image ever faded beyond recall.  A hunger gnawed at her that had little to do with food. "Too much thinking, not enough action." She scolded herself. The melancholy was shaken off with a physical shudder. "Action." Xena repeated aloud in an attempt to dispel the mood.
</p>
<p>She tucked away the telescope and set to picking her way down from the precarious perch. Her horse could stay inside the ransacked church while she slipped down to what remained of the town. They might be willing to trade some fresh food for the trinkets she had lifted off some of her targets. Foraging didn't provide nearly enough meat in the short time she gave to the task and at her performance level she needed more. Hopefully the few people she would encounter were cut off enough from the rest of the country not to recognise her or they were sympathetic to the cause. Better the first. Even admitting they had traded with the Warrior Princess would be a death sentence if the French found out.
</p>
<p>"I'm being careful, beloved." Xena picked her way through the debris that littered the churchyard and down the hill. Blue eyes moved restlessly over the surrounding countryside. "Bread. Nice, soft bread would taste good... maybe with honey, and a cup of fresh milk." Perhaps if she repeated that often enough she could convince herself that food was what she was actually craving.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>XENA: "Well, isn't that just a typical man. I give you a few smiles and a kiss and you're convinced that I'm in love with you."
</p>
<p>There was a limit to how much cold meat and day old bread Mulder could stomach. With the brief exception of his stay in Madrid, which was spoiled by prison porridge, Fox had eaten few decent meals since leaving Canada. Therefore, given the choice between eating yet another bland sandwich off the cook wagon or visiting the inn near where the caravan had stopped for the night... the choice was simple. Mulder could put up with the less than savoury company of his two fellow officers if he could get some still sizzling meat and vegetables that hadn't wilted sometime last winter.
</p>
<p>Lieutenant Nixon ordered a massive pitcher of ale but after his recent experience Fox decided to avoid drinking much alcohol. Nixon and the Captain, a fat man named George Hackett, more than made up for Mulder's aversion to the ale.
</p>
<p>"Nixon here tells me you're for the South Essex, Colonel Mulder." Hackett sucked the foam off the top of his mug. 
</p>
<p>Mulder nodded, inhaling the aroma heavy air of the inn.
</p>
<p>"That's Major Sharpe's lot." Hackett observed aloud.
</p>
<p>"So I've been told." Mulder leaned slightly forward. "I've heard a few tales of the famous Major Sharpe already... How he captured an Imperial Eagle at the battle of Talavera, for one. The Major is quite the topic of conversation in Madrid. Have you served with Sharpe, Captain Hackett."
</p>
<p>"Not personally, no, but one can't serve in Wellington's army and not hear of Major Sharpe. It's not often that an enlisted man climbs up the ranks... and to reach Major. Well." Hackett blew out a breath. "It comes from always being first into the breach and the last to retreat, I suppose. Sharpe's not one for taking on easy tasks. I heard tell he took a deserters outpost then held it against the French with nothing more than a handful of men and some creative bluffing." The Captain chuckled. 
</p>
<p>"I worked under Major Sharpe... when he was a Lieutenant." Nixon offered. "He was assigned to the wagons for a brief time. He didn't have much patience for the job and he wasn't at it long... but Lord did he make an impression. No one wanted to get on his bad side." Nixon chewed at a breadstick. "His lady was this hot-blooded Spanish Partisan. 'The needle' they called her, but I think her name was Teresa. Takes a certain kind of man to bed down with a blood-thirsty assassin."
</p>
<p>Mulder smiled down at the table. He could certainly relate to that situation. A woman willing to throw herself into the middle of a conflict, who could hold her own in a fight, was definitely an attraction he could understand.
</p>
<p>"His Spanish woman's dead now, I heard." Captain Hackett interrupted. "Teresa, aye. Some scoundrel deserter shot her. Messy business."
</p>
<p>An elderly, bent man carried a tray over to their table and proceeded to set steaming bowls in front of each man.
</p>
<p>Noticing that they had lost Mulder's attention, the two officers were soon chatting between themselves about the dubious reputation of some jewellery broker. 
</p>
<p>Mulder ignored them in favour of the creamy mushroom soup in front of him. Between bites his gaze drifted through the lamp-lit interior of the inn. The crowd was an odd mix of travellers with perhaps a few locals near the empty fireplace. Fox noticed the girl he'd seen on the road earlier that day sitting in a quiet corner. Her long, gold hair was uncovered now, making her stand out from the crowd.
</p>
<p>A roasted chicken came as Mulder finished his soup. He was half way through the succulent bird when some movement caught his eye. A crudely dressed, huge, bruiser of a man had decided the girl needed company. Mulder feared his pleasant meal was about to be disrupted by the look of the scene. The lout rested his knuckles on the girl's table and leaned over her, rumbling something about pretty Senoritas and leering. Fox couldn't catch the exact words, it being in Spanish, but he got the general impression from what their body language told him. The blonde laughed sweetly and waved the big guy off murmuring some firm but playful taunt.
</p>
<p>{What's wrong with right now, Missy?} The interloper bent further down, laying a grubby, blunt fingered hand on her wrist. His considerable bulk actually tipped the table.
</p>
<p>Gabrielle winced back from the heavy, sour smells coming from the man looming over her. {Really.} Responding in Spanish. {I've had a tough day and I'm not in the mood.} She had to work at shaking off the weight of his hand.
</p>
<p>{What? You think you're too good for me. Is that it, yellow hair?} The lummox flexed his arms. {I got these muscles working the land... putting food in the mouths of the likes of you, little girl.}
</p>
<p>{And it's quite impressive.} Gabrielle pacified. {I'm flattered, but no thanks.} Her voice was beginning to loose its musical tone. She noticed one of those red coated soldiers rising and turning in her direction. The last thing Gabrielle wanted was to play the damsel in distress for some self-righteous officer. {Listen, I... }
</p>
<p>The giant didn't wait for his prey's next objection. Meaty fingers curled, tightened and pulled the blonde to her feet. {Come have a drink with me, pretty one.} He demanded, yanking her around.
</p>
<p>Gabrielle went with the motion, lifting her free hand as she turned. The flat of her palm impacted hard with the drunk's nose at the same time her foot stomped down on his instep. His hand spasmed open, releasing her. {I said no} Gabrielle announced evenly.
</p>
<p>The farmer held his hands to his nose, astonished for a moment by the rush of blood and sharp pain of the break. Within a second however he shook of the shock and roared in fury. Bloody hands lifted to catch hold of his tiny opponent.
</p>
<p>The annoyed Bard cursed to herself, took a quick step back, then kicked up into the man's groin. When he bent over in reaction a knee lifted hard into his face dropping the giant heavily to the floor. Gabrielle straightened up, rolling her own shoulders to shake out the tension and turned back to her table. 
</p>
<p>The British officer was standing right behind her staring in shock at the scene he had just witnessed. Gabrielle couldn't resist. She lifted a hand, one finger extended and pushed up on the man's chin, closing his mouth. {You'll catch flies.} The bard teased, still in Spanish.
</p>
<p>"What? I don't understand. You... that man... "
</p>
<p>Eloquent, Gabrielle thought, almost giggling. Switching languages, she explained. "I said no, several times." Her head tipped to one side and she smiled radiantly. 
</p>
<p>"Yeah, all right... " Mulder backed up a step, only half-aware he was still staring, like an idiot. It must be his time for falling into killer green eyes, only this pair sparkled with light and amusement. "I thought... " He completely revised his earlier impression from the roadside. This was no girl. Her sweet face and small stature were deceiving, taking attention away from her lean, fit body and confident stance. "... But you're fine."
</p>
<p>"Quite."
</p>
<p>She spoke perfect English as well, Mulder realised. His manners snapped back into place, straightening up and making him bow slightly. "Lieutenant Colonel William Mulder the third." He announced. "At your service."
</p>
<p>"Thanks, but I'm fine, except my dinner." Gabrielle pointed. "It's getting cold."
</p>
<p>"Right. Sorry." He nodded. "Nice meeting you, Miss... " 
</p>
<p>Gabrielle chuckled, turned away and settled back down at her table. She noticed the innkeeper and two other men were dragging her unconscious suitor out the back door.
</p>
<p>Fox went back to his own dinner but it didn't hold anywhere near as much interest as it had just a few minutes ago. He picked at the remains of his chicken and waved off the waiter's other offerings with absent attention. Mulder continued to watch the golden haired beauty, admiring her gently curving shoulders, long neck and graceful movements until the young woman gathered up her knapsack and staff. She paused at the bottom of a darkened stairway and gifted William with another one of those blinding smiles before disappearing into the darkness. When Fox's attention finally returned to the table he sat at Mulder noticed his dinner companions snickering and looking anywhere but into Mulder's eyes.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>(to Sharpe) "It doesn't do to duel with your new commanding officer" 
</p>
<p>Sharpe emerged from his tent to find the tea already brewed. Harper handed up a steaming cup from where he sat on his tied up bedroll.
</p>
<p>"You spent the night out here?" Richard took one scalding sip.
</p>
<p>"Aye." Patrick nodded. "Miss Dana stayed the night with Ramona and the babe. He's much recovered this morning." Harper assured Richard when he noticed his friend's look of alarm. "I suspect the lass is hoping to catch a moment of the Colonel's time... not that she could." He frowned at the tent beside Sharpe's. "His-self never came back last night, at least not that I saw, and he's not there now."
</p>
<p>Richard looked up into the early morning sky. "We're to get a new mission today. Perhaps the Colonel has gone to Wellington already." Sharpe took another deep gulp of his tea. "I suppose I should catch up with him." The rest of the mugfull was tossed away.
</p>
<p>Sharpe strode off towards the command centre, tugging his clothing into order and trying to fasten up his many silver buttons as he walked. He didn't get half way there before noticing the Colonel's dark green uniform among a small crowd of red jackets. Riflemen's uniforms were so rare in this part of the encampment it was near on impossible not to take note of each other.
</p>
<p>"Major Sharpe." Aleksandr shouted, closing the distance between them so they met in an unusually isolated point in the camp. His eyes took in the other man's still untidy state. "No need to rush yourself, Sharpe." No other soldiers were close enough to be privy to the more casual address. "I've already seen Lord Wellington and got our orders." Alek was delighted with the way things were going. He had feared he would have to make a break for it today and risk being hunted down as a deserter or a spy but instead he was actually being ordered out of the camp and toward the French lines immediately. His playful mood manifested itself in a reckless wish to reach across and run his fingers up the intricately decorated breast of Sharpe's jacket. Damn, but the man looked enticingly rumpled this morning. "We... " Aleksandr dragged his attention up from the slices of rough green fabric, white shirt, and smooth skin. "That is to say you, I and no more than a few others are to go out and find a woman... 'La Princesa Guerrera'. Colonel Hogan told me you've a few chosen men that you like to take on missions like this."
</p>
<p>"Aye Sir. I've a small lot of riflemen that'll fit the bill just right." Sharpe acknowledged.
</p>
<p>"Excellent. We'll be out until we find this 'Warrior Princess' so everyone will need full packs." Aleksandr glanced around to see if anyone was paying attention to the pair of them. His imagination had alighted on just the method to keep the Major off balance while having fun at the same time. "I'm ready to go now." No one was looking. "I'll saddle up my horse and meet you... and whichever men you decide to bring at the north gate in about an hour." By this time tomorrow he may have already slipped Sharpe's supervision and taken to the road to report in. Alek surrendered to temptation. He reached over to finger one of Sharpe's unfastened buttons, briefly brushing warm, bare skin in the process. The action earned him a startled flinch and a confused frown from the older man but it was worth it for the brief moment of pure tactile enjoyment. "This one's loose." Aleksandr tugged lightly then released the little silver ball. "You should sew it tighter before it falls off, Sharpe." The reality that he was the other man's superior officer and his liberties couldn't be violently repulsed or even complained about made Aleksandr smile. The worst the Major could do was avoid him, and upon cold reflection, that might be the best way for Alek to hold his cover and keep himself under control until they parted ways. 
</p>
<p>"Aye Sir. I'll see to it." The Major backed up a step, a puzzled, disbelieving expression on his face.
</p>
<p>Aleksandr paced him, keeping the distance between them the same if not closer. God, but the man smelled good. An enticing mix of cheap soap, smoke, and something indefinably male. "Really Richard, you don't need to 'sir' me all the time." Maybe, if the Englishman proved amusing enough, he wouldn't try to follow Ducos 'kill' order on Sharpe. It would be such a horrible waste.
</p>
<p>"Major Sharpe!" Patrick Harper ambled casually up to the pair of officers. His shout preceded him by a fair length. "Colonel Mulder." Harper greeted, coming up to halt slightly off centre and behind Sharpe's left shoulder. "Good morning to you Colonel." He stared straight into the other's eyes.
</p>
<p>Now it was Alek's turn to back away, although he resisted the automatic impulse to lift his hands in surrender by tightly gripping the hilt of his sword. "Sergeant Harper." Christ, was that his voice squeaking so pitifully? Aleksandr cleared his throat nervously and inched even further back. "I've a few loose ends to tidy up... " A pack to retrieve from it's hiding place, for one. Alek had stashed it last night after searching Dana Scully's tent. He had wanted his escape prepared, just in case Wellington didn't send them out first thing this morning. "I'll see you in an hour at the north gate Major Sharpe." He walked backwards until he was well out of striking distance before turning and striding off into the bustle of the morning.
</p>
<p>"I do believe the Colonel is afraid of you, Pat." Sharpe turned around to face his best friend.
</p>
<p>"Of me? Perish the thought. You know what great respect I have for these men who buy their Officer's rank like some trinket off a gypsy cart, Sir." The Sergeant's mouth quirked into a feral grin. His head tilted to one side and Harper's gaze fastened on Sharpe's chest.
</p>
<p>"What?" Richard looked down at himself with a scowl. 
</p>
<p>"Oh nothing, Sir." One of Patrick's eyebrows lifted. "I'm just wondering if there's something wrong with your buttons."
</p>
<p>The Major's cheeks and ears deepened to hot red. "Don't say it, Harper, just don't."
</p>
<p>Colonel Michael Hogan chose that moment to walk up to the pair. "Ah, Major Sharpe, we missed you at the briefing this morning." The intelligence officer flashed a brief smile. "I was hoping for a few words with you before you left camp." Hogan gestured for Sharpe to walk with him. 
</p>
<p>They headed in the direction of where the South Essex was billeted. Harper fell into step right behind his Major.
</p>
<p>"The mission may seem simple enough... " Began Hogan. "... But there's several layers to it, Sharpe." 
</p>
<p>Of course there were. Hogan was far too devious for Richard to figure out every twist in even the most straightforward of the man's instructions.
</p>
<p>They threaded their way through campfires and tent guidelines. "First and foremost we need you to acquaint Mulder with the lay of the land and bring him up to snuff on the situation around here. His stay with the South Essex isn't like to be very long at all. I've plans for him, so I need him to be able to pass for a Frog as soon as possible."
</p>
<p>"I understand, Sir." Sharpe stepped over a muddy trickle.
</p>
<p>"Then there's 'La Princesa Guerrera'." Hogan shook his head. "Such enthusiasm for killing as her's... it's for the young." He mused aloud. "I'm hoping you can track this Partisan down, knowing your way with the locals. Did your Teresa ever mention this Warrior Princess? They seem to have worked the same areas."
</p>
<p>Richard hesitated. Teresa had been glowing in her descriptions of her mentor, Xena, but Sharpe wasn't prepared to share that much information just yet. "I recall some mentions, yes Sir."
</p>
<p>"Good. Good. That's my boy. You can find the woman and bring her to us, Sharpe. I want to know what she's up to next and make sure she's firmly aimed at the Frogs. We wouldn't want to be tripping over each others paths now, would we?"
</p>
<p>"No Sir."
</p>
<p>Hogan glanced sideways as they walked together, trying to judge whether Sharpe was taking him seriously. All those 'yes sirs' and 'no sirs' were usually a sign of trouble. "And then there's Colonel Mulder himself. I'm thinking that if he comes back alive after spending a week or three with your lot... and if you haven't shot him yourself...  well, then he may just turn out to be a decent officer after all." A blustery laugh escaped the big man.
</p>
<p>Behind them Harper chuckled. Pat's amusement was decidedly more sinister.
</p>
<p>Hogan noticed, but spared the Sergeant minimal attention. "I honestly value your opinion, Richard." The Colonel said gravely.
</p>
<p>They approached the cluster of tents that housed Sharpe and his chosen men.
</p>
<p>"I haven't had any contact in private with the young Colonel other than a few brief words last night near the cook wagons." Hogan paused, wondering once again why Mulder had been about there so late at night. "The young man strikes me a bit odd. Not exactly what I expected. What do you think of him so far, Sharpe?"
</p>
<p>Richard came to a halt, not wanting to be too near the tents in case Miss Scully emerged while they were discussing her fiancee. "He seems dedicated enough. I wouldn't venture an opinion yet, Sir. I barely know the man."
</p>
<p>"Dedicated, I suppose." Colonel Hogan looked off into the distance. "I heard he was on the drilling field most of yesterday. How did he take to the men, Sharpe?"
</p>
<p>In the barest of whispers, by Richard's ear, Patrick rumbled. "Mulder taking to the men isn't like to be a problem, now is it?"
</p>
<p>Sharpe dared a quick jab of his elbow back into his Sergeant's stomach. To Patrick's credit he didn't make a sound of reaction.
</p>
<p>"The Colonel seemed pleased with the Regiment, Sir." Richard managed to say.
</p>
<p>Hogan nodded. "I did notice the Colonel was extraordinarily happy about having you placed under him, Sharpe."
</p>
<p>Patrick leaned forward once more only to have Sharpe take a quick side step and level his most lethal glare at the Sergeant. "Speak a word and you're a dead man, Harper." Richard warned.
</p>
<p>Colonel Hogan frowned at the interchange but considering the look on Sharpe's face he decided not to question the threat. "I'll leave you to your preparations then. Keep an eye on Mulder for me. I'll want details when you get back."
</p>
<p>"Aye Sir." As soon as Hogan was safely away Sharpe whirled in place and stalked over to his tent, barking over his shoulder. "The lads and us... north gate. See to it Harper." He disappeared inside and the sound of him ransacking his gear came through the fabric walls.
</p>
<p>Harper crossed over to his own tent. One look at the women waiting for him smothered the smile from his face however. On the bright side Ramona was happily holding the baby and beaming up at Patrick. Unfortunately Dana Scully was right beside her, scanning the area with a hopeful look on her face. "Hagman, Harris, Cooper, Perkins... " He shouted at the men. "Full kits. NOW! We're to be on the trail right away. We've got ourselves a Warrior Princess to track down so we're going to be a while."
</p>
<p>The specified men scrambled after their supplies.
</p>
<p>Dana edged forward, craning her neck. "Patrick, where's William? Is he staying in camp or going on the mission with you?" Her hands nervously smoothed the fancy dress she had put on last night in hopes of meeting her intended.
</p>
<p>Harper bit down on the flare of anger that erupted as he realised the Colonel had absolutely no intention of coming to see the girl before leaving. "Sorry, Miss Dana, but he's for the trail with us... waiting at the gate as we speak I think." 
</p>
<p>Sad blue eyes dropped to the dirt and she crossed her arms over her chest. "Of course. I'm sure it's very important and quite urgent."
</p>
<p>Ramona sidled up closer to the younger woman, wrapping one arm around her while the other held the baby. "Don't worry I'm sure they'll be back in no time." She lied, knowing what the look on Patrick's face meant. "Here, you hold the little one while I help Patrick pack... then after the men are gone you and I can sit down to a quiet cup of tea and talk."
</p>
<p>Dana smiled weakly and took the child, walking absently over to Mulder's tent as if she hoped the man still might show up at the last moment.
</p>
<p>"So, is he a bad one then?" Ramona demanded in a whisper.
</p>
<p>"I'm afraid he might be, love." Patrick admitted.
</p>
<p>Swearing in Spanish, Ramona set to putting together Patrick's kit.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <a id="notes" name="notes"></a>
</p>
<table> <tbody>
<tr><td> 
March 1999
<br/>DISCLAIMERS:
<br/>Ownership: The characters from Xena:Warrior Princess are the property of Renaissance  Pictures and Universal MCA. Krycek, Mulder, Scully and any X-files characters belong to Chris Carter and Fox. The people that populate the Sharpe universe are the intellectual property of Bernard Cornwell. No profit is being made from this fiction and no copyright infringement is intended.
<br/>Violence and language: This is a story for mature readers. Seriously folks, we're talking Xena and the Napoleonic war here. There is a fair bit of violence in this story but it's not frightfully graphic. Some of the characters suffer from potty mouth, in several different languages. The violence content won't be too much stronger than your average episode of Xena or the X-files. We also wish to warn you that there is mention (for plot purposes) of sexual violence and child abuse.
<br/>Sexual content: Xena and Gabrielle are soulmates and lovers. Mulder and Scully are betrothed. Krycek sleeps around. There are no extemely descriptive sex scenes, but there will be female/female, female/male, and male/male sexual relationships. This story may eventually go past PG-13.
<br/>If any of this offends you, or you are underage, or it's illegal where you live... please, stop reading now.
<br/>AUTHORS' NOTES:
<br/>Our story is set during the Napoleonic wars as illustrated by Bernard Cornwell in his series of 'Sharpe' books and the subsequent TV movies. As our tale begins the British forces are pushing the French out of Spain. Richard Sharpe is now a Major and has been recently widowed. 
<br/>Xena, because of the ambrosia she consumed (Episode: The Quest), is immortal and has been travelling the world for two thousand years since the death of her soulmate, Gabrielle.
<br/>X-files fans will recognise the names Mulder, Scully, Krycek, etc... however our characters have been adapted to the times they live in the and histories we've given them.
<br/>This is our first joint effort at fanfiction. Try not to be too hard on us but we really would like to hear your opinion of our work. Feedback can be sent to  [email removed]  Please and thank you.
<br/>Other websites—[broken link removed] 
</td></tr>
</tbody>
</table>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Our story is set during the Napoleonic wars as illustrated by Bernard Cornwell in his series of 'Sharpe' books and the subsequent TV movies. As our tale begins the British forces are pushing the French out of Spain. Richard Sharpe is now a Major and has been recently widowed. Xena, because of the ambrosia she consumed (Episode: The Quest), is immortal and has been travelling the world for two thousand years since the death of her soulmate, Gabrielle.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/><b>La Princesa Guerrera II<br/>by Carla Jane and Jim</b>
</p>
<p><br/><br/>
<i>GABRIELLE:  "What in Tartarus have you been carrying on these shoulders?"
</i></p>
<p>Xena lay on a hill gazing down at the farmhouse below as it's occupants closed up for the night. There was something about observing the routine that settled her even as it angered  her. Not so long ago she and Della had followed a similar pattern every night.</p>
<p></p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>Xena had gotten to the point of savouring every day in the company of Della and the children. She was coming to the end of her customary fifteen year stay. The people in this part of Spain were going to start questioning Xena's lack of physical changes soon.
</p>
<p>The death of Della's husband three years ago didn't help matters. The Spanish woman had come to rely on Xena's help and companionship. It made for a strong temptation to disregard her self-imposed time limit. Della was such a steady, discreet soul that Xena was certain she would let the lack of change pass without comment, or quietly accept it if Xena chose to give an explanation.
</p>
<p>The children were another potent incitement as well. Every one of them from playful Migeal down to the round-faced twins adored their Aunta Xena.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>"I miss those kids so much, beloved." Xena watched as shutters closed imperfectly against the night. Light leaked, outlining the roughly shaped windows. "I miss Della too... but to think of those bright, young lives snuffed out."
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>First they lost the house. Xena had battled off the French patrol that wanted to strip the family of their paltry wealth but the torches that the disgruntled men had tossed as they fled were harder to deal with. Migeal had salvaged the animals and what he could of the contents of the barn while his mother and Xena dealt with the children and the house.
</p>
<p>The loss was frustrating, but it was only 'things'. The family, the land, and a shell to begin rebuilding about remained. 
</p>
<p>Time and the war saw to destroying that comfort soon enough.
</p>
<p>Xena and Della returned sweaty and bedraggled from an afternoon in the field. Help was in short supply lately around this area. Those few people who hadn't fled the French invasion... or weren't fighting... had their own farms to tend to. Della had been tempted to put her eldest to the task of gathering the grain behind them but someone had to keep an eye on the little ones. 
</p>
<p>{What I wouldn't give for a soak in a tub of cool water, right now?} Della sighed, laying her sickle down on the stack of tools by the scorched wall of the barn. It wasn't nearly so satisfying to pour a half-bucket of water over yourself as it was to soak, but time and water weren't things to be wasted right now. 
</p>
<p>{A cold stream.} Xena countered with a tight smile. {Or a lake, since we're dreaming.}
</p>
<p>{And a bottle of good wine.} Della added, mopping her brow. {It seems I can't get the taste of smoke out of my mouth lately.} 
</p>
<p>The two women exchanged a instantaneous look of panic then turned and ran together. Xena's longer legs brought her to the scene quicker than Della. Considering the smouldering state of the ruins, the attack must have come late in the morning. The tent that Xena had constructed to shade the children from the hot sun was mostly destroyed. Every animal in the place seemed to have been taken. The place was in complete disarray.
</p>
<p>Della's scream broke the still air. Xena dived into the faintly smoking debris. Untidy bundles that could easily be mistaken for discarded blankets were each carefully examined. Muskets had ended most of their short lives, although a sword seemed the cause of one death. Only one bloodstained heap still moaned with life.
</p>
<p>{Della... find some water.} Xena ordered, rolling Migeal over and onto his back.
</p>
<p>The sobbing woman laid down the child she was clinging to and stumbled in search of something Xena suspected she wouldn't find. 
</p>
<p>A gash on Migeal's head bled sluggishly. Xena lifted his lids to find them unfocused. More blood stained the boy's shirt front and hands. The ancient warrior gathered him up into her arms and stood. All the other bodies were lifeless. This one she might be able to save, but not here, not in the midst of this carnage that threatened to send her into a mindless rage.
</p>
<p>Later they would come back to bury the children and pick through the wreckage before leaving the farm entirely to join the resistance.</p>
<hr/>
<p>"It hurt to even look at Della after that day." Xena recalled. "I never want to see such damage in a friend's eyes again There hadn't been much worth stealing either, not nearly enough to justify killing the children. They wouldn't have put up any kind of struggle. Of course, the partisans were pleased enough with us joining up. Della had made a fearless fighter, attempting to join her husband and the children in death without the stain of suicide on her Catholic soul." The warrior shook her head. There had been no reasoning with the woman. All of Xena's attempts to protect Migeal's mother were useless. Della constantly threw herself to the forefront of every conflict, courting disaster. "Gods, beloved. It was almost a relief when that musket ended her life and I could concentrate my efforts on taking care of Migeal." At least the boy had wanted to live through his mission of vengeance.
</p>
<p>The light level in the small home dropped, suggesting that some of lamps had been extinguished. The warrior had been considering sneaking down and leaving a handful of coin in exchange for a bit of petty theft, but the idea sat sour in her stomach. She just wasn't hungry any longer.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>XENA (about Gabrielle): "When I look at you, I see the purest, the kindest person I have ever known. Someone who's full of wonder and stories, and would never give up on anything...or anyone."
</p>
<p>It promised to be cooler than it was for the last few days so travelling would be a little less uncomfortable. The late morning sun was bright and the smell of new spring growth put a little more bounce into Gabrielle's walk. A good dinner and sleeping in a comfortable bed had put her in a good mood that the pleasant day was adding to. "You would have been proud of the way I handled myself last night Xena. Your lessons seemed to have stuck with me and you should have seen the look on that red coat's face." What was his name? Oh yes, Mulder. "The look in his eyes when he saw me take out a man twice my size was priceless." The bard realised he had a completely different look on his face when she smiled at him as she left the room. From out of the dust ahead, a lone rider was slowly making his way towards her. She knew that this time Mulder would not be satisfied with just watching her from a distance and resigned herself to the coming interrogation. "Well, it might be nice to talk to someone. The silence is a little lonely." 
</p>
<p>Mulder dismounted and waited as the girl approached. He raised his eyes and smiled.
</p>
<p>"Good morning Miss."
</p>
<p>Gabrielle returned his smile. "And a good morning to you as well, Lieutenant Colonel William Mulder the third." She saw the man hesitate at her formal address. "Oh he is going to be fun to tease."
</p>
<p>"Um...  ah." He stammered, then realised he had been rather ceremonious in his introduction at the tavern. He relaxed and said, "My friends call me Fox. I hope you will as well, Miss... "
</p>
<p>"Gabrielle." She offered. "Just Gabrielle if you don't mind. So tell me, if I call you Fox does that mean that I am one of your friends."
</p>
<p>"Well, Gabrielle, after seeing you in action last evening I believe it would be in my best interests to have you as a friend. You seem to be able to discourage anyone from approaching who is less than friendly." Mulder replied with a small grin.
</p>
<p>"I believe the gentleman last night was trying to be friendly." Gabrielle returned the grin. "Just a little too friendly for my taste. I did try to talk him out of pursuing his interest but he didn't seem willing to listen."
</p>
<p>"I can't fault his taste, only his methods." The officer fell into step beside her. "Where did you learn how to handle yourself in a fight? I don't get the impression it's a common skill in the women over here."
</p>
<p>Gabrielle laughed. "I've been around. I've picked a few things up over the years." She turned the interview around. "You said 'over here'. Where are you from Fox?"
</p>
<p>"Upper Canada." He considered a moment. "That's a British colony north of America... across the ocean."
</p>
<p>"That's a long way to travel to join a war." The bard observed. "I wouldn't think you'd have much stake in an English-French conflict." She didn't comment on his patronising explanation of Canada's location. Gabrielle wasn't ready to argue with him yet.
</p>
<p>"I suppose it depends on how you look at it." He ran the back of his sleeve over his face, blotting up sweat. "We've a French colony right beside us... Lower Canada.  Not that I've ever had a problem with them personally, a lot of my friends were French born. I think Skinner was... and Júan's family came from there." 
</p>
<p>"So why are you here, Fox?" Gabrielle used the name a bit like a pry-bar. "For medals, glory, and Napoleon's hoard of gold?"
</p>
<p>That got a bark of amusement out of him, causing his horse to toss its head. "I just got this twisted vision of Bonaparte dressed as a leprechaun and perched on a chest overflowing with treasure."
</p>
<p>Gabrielle shot him a squinting look then broke into a peal of amusement as well. 
</p>
<p>"You have the most beautiful laugh I've heard in months, Gabrielle." Mulder informed her in a sincere tone. "I think I should like to hear it every day. It's like sunshine... without the bloody oppressive heat." He mopped his face again. "That didn't come out right. Sorry."
</p>
<p>"Nice try though." She conceded.
</p>
<p>"It's cooler back home." He shrugged. "And I'm not used to the uniform."
</p>
<p>"You weren't a soldier in Canada?"
</p>
<p>"Mercy, no." His golden brown head shook. "Father bought me this commission. He said it was time I stopped running about the forest like a wild Indian and acted my age."
</p>
<p>Mulder's strides had lengthened slightly forcing Gabrielle to walk faster. She noticed his expression had gone sullen. It appeared as if that was a sore spot. "What were you?" The bard dropped back to her normal walking speed.
</p>
<p>"Lots of stuff." Mulder had to stop when he started to answer, finally realising the gap he had opened up between them. "Father had me hooked up with an old colleague of his... for training but a friend convinced me to blow it off. I tagged along with Skinner on a few trading runs out west. We did some exploring for Hudson's Bay. I got into scouting for the army, skirmish work, interpreting... to pacify my Father." He was watching his feet now rather than Gabrielle, almost mumbling. "But I never actually signed up. I preferred the terms of a loose affiliation. Army life is fairly... structured." His chin lifted only as he spoke the last sentence. "Besides, Eyota and the braves were better company."
</p>
<p>"Eyota?" Gabrielle coaxed.
</p>
<p>The smile was back on his face now. "A Mohawk Indian warrior." He hedged. "You remind me of her. You have a vibrancy about you Gabrielle, a strong spirit. It glows."
</p>
<p>"Smoother" The bard commented silently. "You must miss her, your Indian warrior. Are you going home to her when the campaign ends?" She asked him.
</p>
<p>Fox shook his head. "I can't." The frown threatened once more. "I'm going to Ireland eventually. Father has a... situation arranged for me. I doubt I'll ever see home again."
</p>
<p>"I'm told Ireland is beautiful country." She gave another gentle prod to keep him talking.
</p>
<p>"Tidy estates and Old World manners, Mother tells me." He scuffed the dust under his feet. "But I've seen trees that touch the clouds and water that rumbles so loud it's song makes your ears vibrate." He scanned his surroundings, glancing only briefly at his companion.
</p>
<p>The look of awe in his eyes was remarkably out of place with his still features and low voice. The shuttered glow was a confidence, not to be shared with a casual viewer.
</p>
<p>"And the natives..." He continued. "... are immensely practical, honest people. I got along with them better than I did with the folks in town." Fox stalled out. He looked at the dust cloud ahead of them. An amused sniff of air escaped him. "You're a clever one, Gabrielle. I came back to ask you why you're following the wagon train." 
</p>
<p>"Did you really?" She offered up a look of innocence. "I was under the impression you came back here to chat me up, Fox."
</p>
<p>"Jeez, you're good." Her directness pushed him off balance. 
</p>
<p>"Why Ireland?" Gabrielle asked.
</p>
<p>"Why are you following the caravan?" Mulder persisted.
</p>
<p>Gabrielle laughed. "It just happens to be going in the right direction. There's safety in numbers, you know. Why Ireland?"
</p>
<p>"You do realise that we're headed towards the British forces, towards the front lines." He obviously didn't want to answer the question.
</p>
<p>All the more reason to persist. "What has been arranged in Ireland, Fox? Your next posting?"
</p>
<p>"Yeah... " He drawled. "That's as good a way to put it as any. My next assignment." A bit of a sneer seasoned his voice. "Marry the Earl's heir, establish a post, then await the arrival of the rest of the company."
</p>
<p>"Ouch." Gabrielle flinched. The cynicism that emerged with that remark completely obliterated the Fox she was just getting to know. The English officer that had stared down his nose at her yesterday returned with a vengeance. The transformation was eerie. "Okay. That's a touchy subject. Let it go for now and try again later." "I'm looking for someone." Gabrielle volunteered the information to coax Fox back out. "An old friend that I've lost track of. Someone who's bound to be in the middle of the fighting."
</p>
<p>Mulder blew out a deep breath, lifting the lock of hair hanging over his forehead. "Then you're headed in the right direction. Is he an officer? I've been briefed on most of the command staff." His shoulders were still tight but the white marks on his fingers where he had twisted his reins too tight began to fade. "I'm taking command of the South Essex."
</p>
<p>That was a worthwhile boast. Gabrielle had heard mention of the company as she passed through Spain. The South Essex had a hero in it's midst. "Congratulations."
</p>
<p>"That's Richard Sharpe's company. He's to be my Major." Fox checked casually to see if she looked impressed. She didn't. "Who are you trying to find?" He visibly loosened up. His shoulders rounded off and his loose gait gradually returned.
</p>
<p>"A partisan." Gabrielle definitely preferred this less pretentious version of the man. "La Princesa Guerrera to be precise."
</p>
<p>Mulder stopped, turning to gaze down at her in amusement. "You don't set yourself an easy task do you? La Princesa Guerrera has most of the French army attempting to kill her. She's not going to be lounging about in a tavern waiting to be found."
</p>
<p>"She's important to me. I need to find her." It was time to try again. He was settled down once more. "Is your family all back in Canada?"
</p>
<p>"For now, yeah."
</p>
<p>"Won't it be hard not ever going back to see them." She mused, noting that he hunched and his head dropped again at the mention of his family. It had to be some kind of ingrained reaction. She could almost see him shoving his hands in his pockets and squirming although he didn't actually do that. 
</p>
<p>"I don't really get along so good with Father." Fox finally admitted. "He's got this idea in his head of what I'm supposed to be. Like I said, he bought this commission. I'm his way into the aristocracy. He's got me betrothed to some Irish Earl's oldest daughter so we pick up the title and all when the old man dies. It's kind of mercenary, but it's not much better on their side. The Earl wants Father's money. Then there's Sam... she's my baby sister, Samantha... Father says it's all in Sam's best interest." He faded out. His lips pressed tight together.
</p>
<p>"Is she nice, the girl you're going to marry?" Gabrielle looked for a positive aspect in the situation.
</p>
<p>"Dana Scully." Mulder mumbled. "Sam's been trading letters with her. She says Miss Scully is just perfect for me." His chuckle was jagged. "As if I belonged with a proper little lady like that." Fox shot a look sideways. "I've always preferred being with someone who could stand on their own two feet, who could hold their own in a scrap. I need a woman like you... or Eyota... rather than a fancy bit of parlour decoration."
</p>
<p>Gabrielle pointed with her staff. "Your wagon train is slowing down by the looks of things." This wasn't where she wanted the conversation to go.
</p>
<p>No shouts of alarm suggested trouble but Mulder needed to check out the unexpected reduction in speed. "Come up to the caravan with me. Why walk when you can ride on a wagon?" Fox lifted his foot to the stirrup and jumped up into his saddle. "Besides, if bandits attack I'd rather have you at my back than that slug Hackett." His hand extended, offering to pull her up behind him.
</p>
<p>Gabrielle considered briefly then accepted. Fox drew her up without any effort.
</p>
<p>"Hang on."
</p>
<p>"Sneak." Gabrielle thought as he kicked his horse into a run, forcing her to catch at his waist with the hand not griping her staff. "I owe you one for this."
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>HAGMAN: "We stick together, you see. Ramona is part of us."
</p>
<p>Ramona patted Dana's shoulder, attempting to soothe the upset girl. "I know it's awful but I'm afraid it happens all the time." She said sadly.
</p>
<p>"The idea that some... brute... was going through my things, touching all my clothes." The Irish woman shivered. "And whatever reason would someone have to steal my diary of all things?" Dana tied the flaps of William's tent closed with a hard tug. "I'll not wear a stitch of it until I've a chance to wash everything that thief pawed through."
</p>
<p>"Don't you worry now. We'll get all your clothes washed up first thing in the morning." Ramona gestured to the surrounding area. "No one's going to touch your things ever again now they're in the Colonel's tent. The South Essex will see to that." The Spanish woman's voice held more than a hint of pride. "And it's not like the Colonel will be using his tent while he's out with Patrick. You'll be much better off here with us, Miss Dana. This is where you should have come right off."
</p>
<p>"Just Dana, Ramona." The redhead insisted once again. "I can't have a friend such as you've been to me calling me 'Miss' all the time."
</p>
<p>The older woman smiled, reaching out to take Dana's hand. "Now you're all settled in we can go over and see what the wagon train has brought in. The baby should sleep for Maria and I'll not waste the free time we have on things we can't change. Come along." Ramona pulled.
</p>
<p>Dana couldn't stop the many thoughts pestering her mind right now but she did try to push the worst of them off to one side and enjoy Ramona's company. The coming night had brought a fresh westerly breeze, nothing but her diary had been stolen, and if she didn't have William at least she had the security of his quarters and rank. Ramona was right. Brooding would do no good right now.
</p>
<p>As the women walked lamps were beginning to flare to life like miniature stars in the distance. The unloading caravan was a blaze of torchlight and activity amid the settling encampment.
</p>
<p>Ramona angled for a point near the end of the wagon train where most of the women seemed to be gathered.
</p>
<p>{Ramona.} One of the camp women called out in Spanish. {Angela says they brought some spices in. You should ask for some.} Patrick's position as Major Sharpe's right hand man sometimes earned Ramona perks.
</p>
<p>Dana looked over the small grouping as she was pulled closer. She couldn't help but feel a bit out of place in her delicately embroidered, lace trimmed dress. Dana had put the outfit on in hopes of impressing William but that was before the sick baby, her night in Ramona's tent and the riffling of her belongings. Not that she had many practical clothes with her in the first place. She wished her Ma hadn't supervised her packing or she might have been able to sneak in some of her working clothes. Dana brushed at her richly coloured skirt and squeezed Ramona's hand quickly before releasing it. The Spanish woman's presence shielded her from the distrust these women would normally turn on any other officer's woman who intruded into their circle.
</p>
<p>Dana noticed another woman within the pool of flickering light who seemed to stand apart from the norm despite being in the centre of the activity. It might have been the reddish blonde hair or that the girl wore pants amid the swirl of dark Spanish women in peasant dresses. What caught Dana's attention the most was the girl's confident stance and that she listened intently to those around her with her whole posture and face, not just her ears.
</p>
<p>Ramona had drawn near to the dust stained traveller so Dana took the opportunity to follow her friend into the crowd. The newcomer was tossing occasional questions out into the hum of women's' voices. Dana thought she caught something about 'searching' but the smattering of Spanish she had picked up en route to William wasn't up to the task of understanding the quick give and take.
</p>
<p>When the words 'La Princesa Guerrera' came out of the smiling blonde both Ramona and Dana took notice.
</p>
<p>{She's a very famous partisan.} Ramona commented.
</p>
<p>Gabrielle turned with a grin towards the dark eyed woman who had come up on her left side. {Do you know of the Warrior Princess?}
</p>
<p>{Yes, most of the soldiers' women have, I should think.}
</p>
<p>{Ramona knows more than most actual soldiers.} Another woman teased. {I think her Patrick must talk in his sleep.}
</p>
<p>Gabrielle laughed along with the rest of the women, waiting to hear more.
</p>
<p>{I'd like to be there to find out if her Patrick's Major talks in his sleep.} A young, snugly outfitted girl cooed. {He's a handsome rascal.}
</p>
<p>{I'll try and remember to tell Major Sharpe you think so Angela. I'm sure he'll want to thank you personally for such a compliment.} Ramona taunted with a gentle smile, causing a few exclamations all around.
</p>
<p>{You do just that, Ramona.} Angela tossed her long hair back confidently. {Major Sharpe's been alone since his Teresa died. I should think he's about ready for a new woman in his tent.}
</p>
<p>Ramona let out a gusty laugh. {Oh really girl! How alone do you think our fine Major's been? Open your eyes and look at him.}
</p>
<p>Gabrielle grinned as a connection clicked into place. {Teresa?} She cut in. {Do you mean 'the needle'? I've heard she trained under the Warrior Princess.}
</p>
<p>Ramona's good humour dropped a notch. She frowned at the newcomer. {Why are you so interested in the Warrior Princess?}
</p>
<p>The blonde head tilted slightly to one side. {I'm a storyteller.} She announced to the crowd of women. {Would you like to hear a tale?} Her eyes sparkled.
</p>
<p>The offer drew an enthusiastic chorus of agreement from all around.
</p>
<p>"She's a storyteller." Ramona drew Dana closer to her side, whispering.
</p>
<p>A delighted smile was on the bard's face as she began to weave a tale in flowing, liquid Spanish.
</p>
<p>"She's talking about a village... early in the war... " Ramona translated for her Irish friend. "La Princesa Guerrera and a small band... they held the French back with nothing but rocks and her steel." She murmured right by Dana's ear so as not to disturb the woman's art. "She tells it better than my translation." Ramona added as an aside.
</p>
<p>Gabrielle's hands and body emphasised the highlights. 
</p>
<p>"The people of the village escaped with all they could carry." Ramona's forehead creased slightly. The bard told the story in such fine detail with brief insights that seemed to make it feel personal. "The partisans faded back into the hills and all the French got were empty buildings." Ramona concluded over the shouts of pleasure the other women showered the storyteller with. 
</p>
<p>Gabrielle settled back with a pleased smile, attempting to catch the eye of the woman whose challenge had brought the story out.
</p>
<p>{The way you tell it... } Ramona was the one to close the distance. {You sound as if you were there.}
</p>
<p>{I wasn't, not exactly, but I got the details straight from Xena.}
</p>
<p>Ramona stiffened in surprise. {You know her.} She stated. {Not many know the Warrior Princess' real name.} The Spanish woman confirmed.
</p>
<p>{You do.}
</p>
<p>{Only through Teresa's stories.} Ramona corrected. {She would talk sometimes, around the Major's campfire.}
</p>
<p>{Major Sharpe.} Gabrielle prompted, trying to draw the other woman out. Ramona was obviously not a common camp follower considering the way the others treated her and the English-speaking redhead she had in tow.
</p>
<p>{My Patrick is Major Sharpe's man. My Patrick minds the Major's back.}
</p>
<p>{I'd like to meet the Major. Xena has mentioned him.} Gabrielle took a chance. {Xena and I lost touch some time ago.} She edged over to one side casually, drawing Ramona and the Lady along. A little privacy was just the thing. {I'm trying to find her again. Needless to say she doesn't make it easy for anyone to track her down.}
</p>
<p>Ramona hesitated, trying to decide if she could trust her instincts about this newcomer. Her insides had never guided her wrong before. {Patrick, the Major... some of the men, oh, and Colonel Mulder... they went looking for the Warrior Princess. They left this morning.}
</p>
<p>Gabrielle's initial delight at the disclosure snagged on a name. {Colonel Mulder?}
</p>
<p>Dana had caught the first reference to her fiancee and listened to the words, trying to understand. Hearing his name repeated by the storyteller brought her up on her toes.
</p>
<p>{I came in with a Lieutenant Colonel William Mulder.} Gabrielle glanced absently in the direction Fox had disappeared. {That's an odd coincidence.}
</p>
<p>{No. No. No.} Ramona's had shook. {That's the name of Patrick's new Colonel. He's been in camp for days. He left this morning with the riflemen.}
</p>
<p>Dana was tugging at Ramona's sleeve.
</p>
<p>Gabrielle shook her head. {William Mulder was escorting this wagon train in.} She gestured. {I first met him a few of days ago. We've been travelling together since the day after I first saw him. William and I have shared a campfire each night. He's from Canada and he's got some stories I've never... }
</p>
<p>"Ramona!" Dana almost shouted to get attention. "What's all this about William? What are you talking about?" She looked from her friend to the blonde and back again. "Does she know my fiancee?"
</p>
<p>Ramona's right hand bunched into the fabric of her long skirt. "The storyteller has heard of the Colonel, Dana." She twisted the truth, not really wanting to upset the girl even more this evening. "I was telling her that he's Patrick's new commander. That's all." 
</p>
<p>Gabrielle looked closer at the red haired girl. This was Fox's fiancee then. She couldn't let Ramona's mangled version of her words stand, not considering the odd clashing of facts and Miss Scully's stake in the matter. "No." The bard switched to English for the first time since speaking to the women. "There was a Colonel Mulder travelling with this caravan. I met up with Fox on the road some ways back and he invited me to travel along with them. He's been with us. He didn't ride ahead."
</p>
<p>Ramona shook her head in confusion. "But, that can't be right. Colonel Mulder left with Patrick."
</p>
<p>"Fox." Dana Scully bit down on one of her thumbnails. His sister seldom called him Fox. However, Samantha had said his friends and the Rangers he worked with, all used that nickname. "So, William just got here then?"
</p>
<p>Gabrielle nodded. "He's about this tall." She held her hand about seven inches above her head. "Earth brown hair... sort of bluish eyes. He has an odd accent, a bit on the nasal side. He's been telling me about Indians, his sister Sam, and how he's got an Irish bride he's never met waiting here in camp." Gabrielle paused. "That would be you. Dana Scully, right?"
</p>
<p>"That's my William, Ramona. I'm sure of it. No one but William calls Samantha that, she told me that in one of her letters." Dana said firmly, catching and squeezing her friend's wrist in emphasis.
</p>
<p>Ramona grimaced. The Colonel she had seen in and about the site before Dana had arrived had almost black hair and Patrick had remarked on the man's shifting eyes, saying they were a venomous green, like a snake. "But then... " She fought down panic. "But if Colonel Mulder just came in who's with Patrick and the Major. This is bad... very bad."
</p>
<p>"I don't know what's going on." Dana's temper and the frustration of the last two days stiffened her back. She'd had just about enough of trying to be the proper lady Da had told her William was expecting. "But by the hills, I'm going to find out. Where did William go?" She demanded of Gabrielle.
</p>
<p>"To report in."
</p>
<p>"If you'll excuse me then." Dana's chin lifted. "I'm to see Lord Wellington."
</p>
<p>"You do just that." Ramona encouraged, pleasantly surprised by the spark in her friend's eyes.
</p>
<p>"I'll be to the tents as soon as I've some satisfaction." Dana's accent had thickened. She turned and walked confidently towards the centre of the camp.
</p>
<p>"Come with me, storyteller. I know a thing or two about the Warrior Princess that you might like to know." Ramona offered.
</p>
<p>"Gabrielle. My name is Gabrielle."
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>HOGAN: "Stick with me Richard. I'll see you right."
</p>
<p>SHARPE: "You'll see me dead, Sir."
</p>
<p>HOGAN: "That's my boy."
</p>
<p>A light scratching at the material of the tent preceded the interruption. Arthur Wellesley, Lord of Wellington and his first advisor, Hogan looked up from the documents scattered across the desktop. Wellington's assistant slipped into the tent, wincing at the sudden change in light and the intense gaze of the two senior officers.
</p>
<p>"There seems to be a bit of a problem, Milord... Sir... that needs sorting out." The young man said hesitantly. 
</p>
<p>Wellington rose to his feet. "What's the problem. Spit it out already, lad." He ordered as his junior officer squirmed under the attention, looking more uncomfortable than Wellesley had ever seen him act before.
</p>
<p>"Well Milord, Sir... There's a Lieutenant Colonel William Mulder outside. He came in with the new caravan from Madrid just now and he's demanding to see you, Milord." The Lieutenant grimaced. "A completely different sort of Colonel Mulder, Milord." He clarified unnecessarily. 
</p>
<p>The two senior officers were silent a moment then Hogan let out a gust of laughter. "That would explain a few things, wouldn't it? I think that perhaps we should have a look at the new Colonel. Don't you, Milord?"
</p>
<p>"Quite." Wellington pressed the bridge of his nose to soothe the sudden headache that was threatening to erupt. "Bloody hell." He swore softly. "Have Colonel Mulder brought in immediately."
</p>
<p>"Yes Milord." The youth disappeared.
</p>
<p>"It's part of your job to keep things like this from happening, Michael." Wellington complained snappishly.
</p>
<p>"Not to worry. Not to worry. This may well turn out to be a blessing in disguise." Hogan pacified. "If you would, please, follow my lead on handling this one."
</p>
<p>An armed guard entered at the side of a red-coated Colonel. This Mulder looked to be a few years older than the last. Hogan had been a bit surprised by how youthful the first man had looked, but he dismissed it with the reasoning that everyone's face aged differently. The new officer's hair was a shade lighter and the man's features were much more sharply cut that the previous Colonel Mulder.
</p>
<p>"Lord Wellington." Mulder did a quick survey of Hogan. "Colonel." He concluded at once. "I am William Mulder from Upper Canada. There seems to have been a serious misunderstanding." He planted himself solidly in front of the Commander of the army. "I have a note from General Sanchez of Madrid, explaining my difficulties and the reason I no longer carry my original orders." Fox announced. "I was robbed while in that city and it appears as if the thief has used those stolen papers and my uniform to impersonate me."
</p>
<p>"Really?" Hogan commented blandly. "And how are we to know that you are the real Colonel Mulder?"
</p>
<p>Fox's eyes darkened and he looked almost annoyed with the older man. "I could tell you I was born in Maine and my mother's maiden name was Kuipers. I could elaborate on my Canadian Commander's habit of pouring apple sauce over absolutely everything he ate including his meat and potatoes... " His voice took on a deeply pitched monotone. "Or if you bring me that son of a bitch who's pretending to be me I will gladly do a demonstration of the Indian technique of removing a man's scalp while still leaving him alive to confess his crimes and betray his mission. But it all comes down to the fact I'm Fox Mulder because I say I am, God damn it!" Mulder's posture didn't change, only the blazing in his eyes betrayed the level of anger he felt at the constant challenge he had been receiving to his identity since arriving in Wellington's camp. "And if that's not good enough I'll quite happily turn around and go as soon as I can find something to wear besides this 'shoot me, I'm a bloody target' uniform."
</p>
<p>"Colonel Mulder!" Wellington warned. "Remember your place."
</p>
<p>"My apologies Milord... I am sorry. It's been a very bad week." William damped down on the anger that threatened to choke him, recalling who he spoke to.
</p>
<p>Hogan's lips quirked once then a thick chuckle of amusement escaped him. "I'm inclined not to care which is the real one. I'd rather have this man on our side than that twitchy young kiss-ass any day." 
</p>
<p>"Milord Wellington." Came the newest interruption from the doorway. "There's a Miss Scully demanding to see you, my Lord. She insists that it's quite urgent."
</p>
<p>"Not now Smithers." Wellington waved the teenager off. "I'm busy."
</p>
<p>"Excuse me Milord." Hogan forestalled the dismissal. "Did you say Miss Scully, lad?"
</p>
<p>"My fiancee." Mulder cut in. "That's my fiancee's name."
</p>
<p>The spymaster nodded, recalling something he had picked up. "I knew the Earl of Thistlemoor back in my younger days. You may have met Wallace Scully yourself, Milord. His daughter is here to marry Colonel Mulder. She arrived early yesterday morning with that supply train Sharpe brought in."
</p>
<p>"Oh yes... " Wellington's mouth curved slightly. "I've had an occasional encounter with Thistlemoor." Most of which involved taking the Earl's money. Wallace Scully was known for carelessly considered gambles. "Well, let's have Thistlemoor's daughter brought in. The young lady should be able to settle the question of the Colonel's identity."
</p>
<p>Dana entered in a fit of fire but upon seeing the Lord Wellington and realising the officer to the left was her intended husband she forced herself to calm down. The future of her family's holdings rested on making this marriage. "Milord." Dana curtsied. 
</p>
<p>"Miss Scully." Hogan took the lead. "We have a slight situation on our hands. Would you be so kind as to verify whether this man is William Mulder." He pointed.
</p>
<p>Dana shifted her gaze to look full on the man she was going to marry for the first time. Samantha hadn't exaggerated, William really was an extremely handsome man. "I would like to help, Milord, but I've never actually met William before."
</p>
<p>"So I've heard." Hogan confirmed. "But a few questions should solve the mystery. You must have been told some things about your intended... or perhaps exchanged gifts."
</p>
<p>Dana nodded. "Samantha passed along this round, hanging thing that William made. It's very beautiful. It has feathers... " Her voice was almost reverent.
</p>
<p>Hogan raised his hand, silencing Dana. "Tell us about it Colonel Mulder."
</p>
<p>Fox studied his future bride, surprised that she seemed so pleased with something he had tossed together while wedged in a tree waiting for action. "It's called a dream-catcher." He clarified. "It's a long willow switch bent into a hoop... with beads suspended by thread... woven inside the circle. The feathers hanging off it are from the owl's nest I was sitting in. Frohike, one of the coureur du bois taught me how to make them."
</p>
<p>They all turned to Dana, who nodded.
</p>
<p>Wellington and Hogan exchanged a long look. Hogan frowned. "That's settled... but this means the Colonel Mulder who set out with Sharpe is a spy." Hogan's thoughts were racing, considering what information the false Mulder could have had access to and how to use the situation to their advantage.
</p>
<p>"You sent him on a mission." Fox reasoned out in a crisp tone. "Point me in the right direction, Milord, and I'll bring you back his head."
</p>
<p>Wellington sat down, folding his hands on the desktop. This man was definitely closer to what they had expected to receive... an ill-mannered, colonial woodsman. Major Sharpe was definitely going to prefer this Colonel.
</p>
<p>"No. I don't think the Colonel should, my Lord." Hogan finally stated, shooting an overtone-laden stare at Wellington. He turned back to Mulder. "You don't know the territory and we can't afford another troop to escort you. They're tracking down 'La Princesa Guerrera', a partisan. They'll be too hard to find by now. Not to worry though, I'm quite certain Major Sharpe will uncover and deal with the traitor in his own fashion."
</p>
<p>Wellington covered his surprise at Hogan's recommendation with a thoughtful pause. 
</p>
<p>"But Milord Wellington... " Fox stared in disbelief.
</p>
<p>"I have to agree with Colonel Hogan in this case, Colonel Mulder." Wellington put his trust in his spymaster's mind.
</p>
<p>"Miss Scully." Hogan said firmly. "Allow me to walk with you." He stepped forward. "We will take the Colonel over to the South Essex's site, Milord. That's where the other Mulder has placed the Colonel's gear, is it not Miss Scully?" 
</p>
<p>"Yes Sir." She agreed. "That man... he left some things in his... I mean William's... tent."
</p>
<p>"Alex Krycek." Fox interrupted. "He told me his name was Alex Krycek." He didn't really want to admit that the theft had been considerably more personal than a whack on the head in a dark alley, but the name might prove to be important some time in the future.
</p>
<p>Hogan paused at the unfamiliar name, none of his informants had ever made any references to a Krycek. The spymaster prided himself on his awareness of French agents, and this one had taken him totally by surprise. Ducos must have sent some one brand new against them. That would explain why the man's face hadn't set any alarm bells off in Hogan's head. Considering the Russian flavour of the name, he suspected the young man had been recruited from the eastern front of Napoleon's war. "Shall we go Colonel Mulder?"  
</p>
<p>"But... " 
</p>
<p>"The decision has been made. I don't suggest you press me any further on this matter." Wellington flicked his hand, dismissing Hogan, Miss Scully and Mulder.
</p>
<p>"Come with me, Colonel." Hogan led the way.
</p>
<p>Fox swallowed his complaints, forcing his expression to one of bland acceptance. He'd had plenty of practice at hiding his hostility from his father back home. "As you wish, my Lord." Mulder followed Hogan and his fiancee out of the tent
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>SHARPE: "It doesn't make sense."
</p>
<p>HARPER: "Not everything in this world has to make sense."
</p>
<p>Harper was away from Sharpe's side for the first time that day.  The big man was rolled up in a blanket, snoring softly. He, Harris and Cooper were already asleep in expectation of their turn at watch. Hagman and Perkins ranged about the camp keeping an eye on their surroundings.
</p>
<p>Sharpe had ghosted around the edges of their small encampment himself until the Colonel had settled down beside the fire. Richard wanted to keep his distance from Mulder after the other man's disturbing behaviour this morning. When he was finally confident that the Colonel was enthralled in the small burgundy book he held Sharpe settled down on a flat rock near where Harper was lying.
</p>
<p>It may have been a bit cowardly but Sharpe had kept Harper near at hand all day long on purpose. It seemed that wherever Harper was, Mulder made an effort to be elsewhere. The Colonel had stayed mounted on his horse while on the road. Mulder hadn't attempted to enter any of the places when Sharpe had stopped to question the locals. The man chose instead to lean over and talk to Harris about all sorts of book learned nonsense that had Perkins wincing and rolling his eyes. All in all it was odd behaviour for someone of Mulder's history, but on the positive side, Harris hadn't been happier in weeks. The former teacher didn't meet many common soldiers with his level of education and the officers weren't usually inclined to talk to the like of Harris. Richard decided that Mulder seemed to be trying his very best but it was falling short. Patrick had spent the time he wasn't tormenting Sharpe about the morning's flirtation grumbling that to track Mulder needed to be a damned sight closer to the ground. Richard had been put in the uncomfortable situation of having to defend Mulder's behaviour to Pat when he didn't much like it himself.
</p>
<p>The mission looked a lot more difficult than it had this morning too. When he wasn't asking the locals about the Warrior Princess, Sharpe was trying to sift through his own memory for clues. Teresa's descriptions of Xena just weren't matching up to the shadow 'La Princesa Guerrera' was currently casting. Of course most of the hack and slash rumours Sharpe had heard came from the camp or captured French soldiers, not the locals, who seemed to adore the Warrior Princess. 
</p>
<p>Teresa had spoken of a cool-headed, perfectly trained warrior. Xena had a sparse network of friends that she was fiercely protective of and usually in close contact with, none of which Richard could get a lead on today. Teresa had been intensely proud that the warrior had considered her a friend. Of course the word 'pride' was forever entangled with Teresa's image in his mind.
</p>
<p>A piece of damp wood in the fire popped, making an almost shot-like noise in the night's silence.
</p>
<p>Sharpe had to swallow a laugh at Mulder's gasp of surprise and the way he dropped his book. That spark of enjoyment vanished quickly as Richard found his eyes meeting the other man's above the tiny blaze.
</p>
<p>The Colonel made a faint throat clearing noise then began. "Richard, I... "
</p>
<p>Sharpe stood abruptly, catching up the blanket roll at his feet. "I'm exhausted." He undid the strapping around it and made a careful show of laying his blanket right beside Patrick. "Goodnight Sir." Sharpe laid down, twisting to put his back to the fire and his commanding officer.
</p>
<p>He wasn't exactly sleepy but Richard wanted to think, not deal with Mulder. Over the years he had perfected the semblance of being asleep when he wasn't. It was a useful skill to allow yourself and those around you a bit of privacy. In the workhouse it gave the boy in the next bed a chance to cry into his pallet with less shame. In the lower ranks of the army, when the man beside you might die in the morning, there were prayers and self-gratification that needed ignoring. Lately feigned sleep was something to give an enemy a false sense of security.
</p>
<p>Richard replayed the day inside his mind as he lay in the darkness. The baker Sharpe had spoken to last had heard that the Warrior Princess was killed about two or three months ago. The man had been delighted to discover his mistake a week ago when his sister had come with news that Xena had halted a looting near their home village. That information had Sharpe turning the men in a more Easterly direction. They were in for another long walk tomorrow. 
</p>
<p>At times, mostly when he was hot or his legs were tired Richard envied officers on horseback. The increased speed and few extra feet in height were almost requisite at the beginning of a battle. Still, after all his years slogging it out down with ordinary men the few times he did borrow a horse it had felt decidedly odd.
</p>
<p>A snippet of part of his training speech came back to him at that moment bringing a smile with it. When attacking, the wise move is always to kill the officers first if you can and throw the ranks into chaos. Maybe some French patrol would do them the favour of an ambush. It was fairly obvious to a casual viewer which man made the best target in this group and he was certain all his men would keep wits enough about them to escape.
</p>
<p>Wouldn't that solve all his problems in a quick toss of fate's dice? A laugh tickled Sharpe's throat but he had warning enough to turn it into a cough.
</p>
<p>On the far side of the fire Aleksandr looked up at the slightly choked off noise. His eyes were tired from the glaring sun of the past day and the small handwriting in the book he held was making it worse. At least Mulder's fiancee had tidy penmanship. It reminded him of his father's handwriting in the family bible.
</p>
<p>Aleksandr had skimmed the newest entries first. He read of long, boring carriage rides, frustration at the language barrier, and a few girlishly embarrassing speculations on William Mulder and what it would be like to be married to him. Only the fear of drawing attention to himself halted Alek's impulse to slam the small volume against his own forehead when the full import of Miss Scully's careful writing penetrated. The girl had never laid eyes on William in her life. He had spent an agitated day and one very long night agonising over a discovery that the girl was in no position to make. It was a small mercy he hadn't gone through with his plan to slit the girl's throat in order to squeeze another day or two out of his situation. Best he got out of that place when he did. Aleksandr had enough information cached in his brain to keep Ducos happy with him for a while. He had a perfect escort into French territory. As an added bonus Harris was fine company and Sharpe made for nice scenery. If only he could think of a vaguely plausible reason to dispatch that beastly Sergeant Harper back to camp then the next few days would be perfect.
</p>
<p>Alek considered tossing Miss Scully's diary into the coals but if it didn't burn thoroughly...  that would raise questions. Besides which, he liked reading the thing. It was a welcome escape from the complications that his real life had in abundance. Aleksandr tucked the diary back into his jacket, set out his own bedroll and lay down to rest his burning eyes picturing how much different things would have been if he was a member of the placid Scully clan instead of who he really was.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>KRYCEK: "Then you've got no choice but to deal with me."
</p>
<p>Ramona and Gabrielle heard them coming before they saw Dana and the two officers.
</p>
<p>Mulder was attempting to explain what had happened in Madrid.  "... that's all I can remember, Sir. I think there was something in the wine I was drinking." Fox's face burned at having to recount how he had lost his possessions to the spy. Luckily the darkness hid the visible signs of his embarrassment so his carefully edited version of the encounter seemed to be holding up.
</p>
<p>Hogan murmured some non-committal noise.
</p>
<p>"I realise that drinking with a complete stranger seems somewhat... beneath the dignity of a British officer and I do regret it, Sir." Guilt was pushing him to say more than he wanted to. "I'm afraid I'm still new to the rank. As a Ranger no one much cared how I behaved." Mulder explained. "I will attempt to adjust quickly Sir."
</p>
<p>"That will do, Colonel Mulder." Hogan took pity on the younger man. It was a trifle cruel to interrogate Mulder about the incident in front of his fiancee. The man's flawed story was most likely tailored to cover up the mention that there were tavern whores involved. On one hand it was a terrible pity, Hogan thought. Mulder wasn't anywhere near the adept liar that Krycek had proven. The Colonel had to envy Ducos that kind of operative. It boggled the spymaster that Krycek had put in four days hanging around Wellington's tent with no one the wiser. Hogan shook his head. He'd been spending too much time in the company of officers instead of the field. Luckily Sharpe didn't have that handicap. The Major likely suspected something was wrong with his new Colonel already. Sharpe and Harper had seemed a bit off this morning before leaving camp.
</p>
<p>"I've put my belongings in William's tent." Dana spoke into the silence that had descended when they reached the South Essex's site. She extricated herself from the arm of the vaguely familiar Irish Colonel. "Someone went through my things where I was before." She explained. "My diary was stolen." Dana felt the rush of defilement again. She looked to William for support only to notice that his attention had drifted to where Ramona and the Storyteller sat. "What kind of cad would steal a woman's diary?" Her voice challenged.
</p>
<p>William seemed oblivious to her distress. However, Colonel Hogan did reach out to pat her shoulder. 
</p>
<p>Dana blushed. "Anyway, Ramona suggested that I move in over here while William was gone." The light of the nearest campfire was enough to illuminate her fiancee's face. He had dismissed her from his attention in favour of gazing at the blonde bard. A smile was tugging at the corners of his heavy lips. "Too many people were always about the kitchens. Ramona thought I would be safer over here." Dana finished lamely. At least Colonel Hogan was still listening to her.
</p>
<p>"The kitchens?" Hogan questioned. "I saw the spy, Krycek, over there near on midnight yesterday. He was carrying a burgundy bound book. I didn't think much of it at the time, but... "
</p>
<p>"My diary." Dana exclaimed. "That scoundrel was the one in my tent."
</p>
<p>At the raising of her voice Mulder glanced briefly at his fiancee but she was merely yelping about trivialities. The firelight burnishing Gabrielle's beautiful face was a much more fascinating view.
</p>
<p>"I suppose it's a good thing you didn't go home last night, child. He may have intended you harm." Hogan reasoned out. "You could have exposed him."
</p>
<p>Ramona couldn't hold back any longer. She crossed the space between them with quick, angry steps. "Señor Hogan!" Ramona never did like the way this crafty officer was constantly using Major Sharpe as some kind of game piece. "You'd better tell me what's going on! Who's that man out with my Patrick and the men? If my Patrick's in trouble... " She let the threat hang.
</p>
<p>"Dear, dear Ramona. Calm yerself." Hogan turned from Dana to soothe the furious Spanish woman. "As if one man could prove a harm to your strong Patrick and clever Major Sharpe. Really."
</p>
<p>"I should go after them, Sir." Mulder tried one last time for official approval. "They need to be warned that Krycek is a spy."
</p>
<p>"Doma arriba!" Ramona let out a shout of anger and swatted Hogan's consoling hand away. "A spy? You sent my poor Patrick out with a spy at his back?"
</p>
<p>"Colonel Mulder." Hogan snapped, annoyed now. "Lord Wellington made his position quite clear. We've no one to spare to take you out. A major offensive is imminent. We are barely able to spare Sharpe and his lot on this bit of northern foolishness." He gave Mulder a direction. "If 'la Princesa Guerrera' wasn't so enthusiastic in her attacks we most likely would have ignored her like the rest of the partisans."
</p>
<p>Dana couldn't help but see the intense look William traded with the Storyteller at that moment. Both sets of eyes were flashing dangerously.
</p>
<p>"You will stay here on site and keep out of trouble until Sharpe returns." The spymaster took careful note of the raging insubordination that was creeping across Mulder's face, but he made no mention of it.
</p>
<p>"I understand perfectly, Sir." Fox nearly hissed. His hands were fisted at his sides.
</p>
<p>Hogan almost smiled but that would spoil the game. The Colonel would be on his way by dawn at the latest or Hogan knew nothing about human nature. If Mulder pulled this off Wellington could be assured that this man was up to the job they had tentatively planned for the Canadian. If he didn't, Wellington had full deniability and a good excuse to rid himself of a less than useful Ranger.
</p>
<p>"Señor Hogan!" Ramona shrilled. "Aren't you going to do anything?" She demanded.
</p>
<p>"Patrick's a fine strapping man, Ramona. He can handle one little rat like that." Colonel Hogan inclined his head to Dana. "Goodnight Miss Scully. Perhaps over the next few days there will be better opportunities to chat. I've a story or two about your Da's younger days that might take away that sorrowful look you're wearing right now. Goodnight Ramona, Colonel Mulder." Hogan strode off with a pleased smirk on his face.
</p>
<p>"If that don't beat all." Ramona glared after the retreating officer. "What exactly is going on Miss Dana?"
</p>
<p>The Irish woman's eyes were on William as he stared over at the blonde, Gabrielle, who offered up a friendly smile in return. "The man who went out with the mission is an impostor." She began in an absent tone. How dare William so obviously admire another right in front of her? The least he could do was make some attempt at discretion. "This Krycek person robbed William in Madrid and took his papers... " Her recitation was flat. God damn it, but it was hard to keep up at playing the proper Lady when all she wanted to do was pop the smiling blonde on the chin. "... and everything. Mr Hogan seems to think he's a French spy." Ma never warned her it was this hard to act like a Lady. Mind, Ma didn't have Dana's temper-torn nature to contend with. "I don't understand why they aren't chasing him down." Good, William was going into his tent. That made it easier to actually pay attention to Ramona. "Maybe he didn't steal any useful information." Dana guessed. "But it does appear he was the one who ransacked my tent and stole my diary."
</p>
<p>"Mia Madre!" Ramona absorbed it all. "And that one? Is he your real William?"
</p>
<p>Dana nodded.
</p>
<p>From inside the Colonel's tent came the sounds of fabric hitting the walls and buckles being fumbled with. Mulder had left the flaps slightly open to admit some light. The break in the door provided Dana with intriguing flashes of movement.
</p>
<p>'It appears as if your things are suffering even further indignities." Gabrielle commented from her place near the fire. "He seems to be in quite the froth."
</p>
<p>Dana's lip curled slightly. She had no desire to hear the Bard's opinion. "He wants to track down Major Sharpe and the men but Lord Wellington had forbid him leave to go." Dana explained to Ramona then turned. She squared her shoulders and walked over to William's tent. A quick tug pulled the right flap all the way open.
</p>
<p>William's uniform was crumpled on the ground at his feet. Several weapons were carefully laid out on the cot. He was half-dressed in some kind of leather or buckskin pants of a dark, shadowy colour.
</p>
<p>"You're packing." Dana observed coolly, despite the distracting expanse of skin he was unconsciously displaying.
</p>
<p>He shrugged into a grey looking shirt.
</p>
<p>"You're going after them." She accused, angry at the way he was ignoring her. "That's desertion. I could report you."
</p>
<p>Mulder fished a vest out of the mess of clothes strewn about and began lacing it up. Krycek had left all of Fox's Ranger gear behind. "You can't marry a dead man for his money Miss Scully. You don't want them to hang me."
</p>
<p>Dana ground her teeth. So that's what he thought of her. Damn Da, and his careless ways. This arrangement kept growing more difficult every moment. "Take me with you and I won't be able to report you." She just needed some of his time to really talk to him.
</p>
<p>Fox looked up briefly but didn't respond. He bent to gather up and strap on weapons and an ammunition belt. The sword he had got in Madrid from General Sanchez hooked onto his belt.
</p>
<p>"I need to go with you."
</p>
<p>"Listen, I appreciate your help earlier and I'll bring back your precious diary if I can." His tone grew condescending. "But this isn't the kind of trip I can take someone like you on, little girl."
</p>
<p>Dana Scully's arm pulled back of it's own will but she tightened her self-control and didn't swing. She internally cursed her father's vices once more for putting her in the situation of needing this arrogant son of bitch and his father's money. Dana cursed Samantha for describing her brother as a much better man than this. But mostly she cursed herself for having the idiocy to half fall in love with a man who she only knew through someone else's perceptions.
</p>
<p>Fox let out a puff of laughter at her frustrated fury and pushed past carrying a small pack and his uniform jacket. The wretched red monstrosity would get him out of camp if nothing else. The pickets weren't like to challenge his Colonel's insignias. He walked across the site to Gabrielle. "The spy is on a mission... chasing down the Warrior Princess." He told his new friend. "They've got a day's lead on us but I think we can catch them."
</p>
<p>Behind him Dana's anger mounted to absolute rage.
</p>
<p>"I need your help, Gabrielle, please. If you can talk to the locals... " Fox explained. "... get us into the general vicinity, then I'm positive I can track them down. My broken Spanish isn't up to this, and you know the lay of the land hereabouts better than me." He was trying to learn the language but that took time, and time wasn't something he had to spare.
</p>
<p>Dana Scully stomped up behind her intended husband and swatted him hard on the shoulder, making her palm sting. It did turn him around though. "How can you discard me, your bloody wife to be, then have the stones to invite her along on your little escapade." Her full Irish accent overtook the words, dropping her 'H's and hardening the vowels. "I'll not be standing for it."
</p>
<p>Gabrielle looked past Fox to take in the indignation on the red-haired girl's face.
</p>
<p>"The two of you will not be leaving me behind William Mulder. I've had a belly full of being ignored and dismissed. No more." Dana glared jealously at the Storyteller. What did that one have that she herself didn't? "You're going to take me with you. I'm sure I can be useful." 
</p>
<p>"Fox." Gabrielle interrupted. "I think you should bring her." The girl was covering the desperation with anger but Gabrielle could see how badly Dana wanted to be with Fox. She recalled that burning need from ever so long ago when she had first pleaded with Xena.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>Gabrielle had knelt before the low bench. The feel of Xena's armour was unfamiliar in her hands. "Xena, you've got to take me with you. Teach me everything you know." Gazing up into those pale blue eyes. "You can't leave me here in Potadeia. I want to go with you." Gabrielle had tried so hard to convince the Warrior. "I've studied the stars, spoken with philosophers and I have the gift of prophecy. I can be very valuable. Take me with you. I want so much to be like you."</p>
<p></p>
<hr/>
<p>Gabrielle shook off the memory. Dana was staring at her in shock. Just a hint of gratitude was creeping onto that freckled face.
</p>
<p>Mulder, however, was still in full scowl. He had been looking forward to more travelling on the road with Gabrielle, this time without a whole caravan of people breathing down their necks. "She'll just be in the way."
</p>
<p>"You don't know anything about me. You don't have any idea what I'm capable of. You're supposed to be an officer and a gentlemen. Why don't you try acting like one instead of tossing this colonial back-woods attitude at me?" Dana changed her tactics. "Ramona." She called the older woman over to her side. "Do you think that you and the South Essex could cover up Colonel Mulder's absence from camp while we go and warn Patrick?"
</p>
<p>"Si. For you Miss Dana... " Ramona grinned. "Anything."
</p>
<p>"You see what I can do, William?" Dana asserted. "At my word you can go from being a deserter to having fifty people swear 'he was here just a few minutes ago Sir, try the other side of the camp'." She grinned. 
</p>
<p>"That Colonel... Hogan, he wants me to go. I can tell." Fox argued.
</p>
<p>"That doesn't make it official." Dana persisted. "Ramona is there any way you could scare us up a couple of days rations to start us off?"
</p>
<p>The Spanish woman almost laughed at the frustration on the new Colonel's face. "I think I could manage a few useful things for your packs... and some travelling clothes for you Miss Dana." She hinted.
</p>
<p>"We certainly could use the supplies." Gabrielle agreed. "Bring her along Fox." Besides, Mulder's attentions needed to be gently deflected. What better choice could Gabrielle make than to open Fox's eyes to his own fiancee who was fast proving herself more than she seemed?
</p>
<p>Fox closed his eyes and grumbled harshly. "Putain de merde! Fine. I give up. Go get yourself ready. I don't want to have to wait on you and you'd better not slow us down.."
</p>
<p>Dana turned and ran in the direction that Ramona was urging her.
</p>
<p>Mulder watched her go, muttering under his breath. "Fils de pute."
</p>
<p>Gabrielle shook her head slowly and playfully poked her companion. "Fox."
</p>
<p>"What?" He looked wearily down at her.
</p>
<p>{Did I mention that I speak several different languages.} Gabrielle teased in French. {Nice words to use in front of a Lady.}
</p>
<p>Mulder stared in shock a moment, then gathered his confidence back around himself like a cloak. "Clever, Gabrielle." He sighed theatrically, grinning mischievously and switching to Mohawk. The chance that she would understand that were slight. {I want to hear your screams of pleasure when I make love to you.}
</p>
<p>Gabrielle had no clue what Fox was saying but she could hear the attempt at seduction behind the words. Yes, he definitely needed another woman to focus on. "Two can play at this game and I know I'm better equipped than he is." {You'll be thanking me for bringing her along when you realise you don't have a snowball's chance in Tartarus with me.} She taunted back in Greek as she walked after Ramona and Dana.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <a id="notes" name="notes"></a>
</p>
<table> <tbody>
<tr><td> 
April 1999
<br/>THE FULL DISCLAIMER LIST IS AT THE BEGINNING OF CHAPTER I. Please go and check out all the warnings if you're a sensitive reader
<br/>Ownership: The characters from Xena: Warrior Princess, the X-files and Sharpe are not ours. We're making no profit.
<br/>Violence, language and sexual content: PG... this contains f/f, f/m, and m/m sexual relationships.
<br/>If any of this offends you, or you are underage, or it's illegal where you live... please, stop reading now.
<br/>Feedback: We're always up for acknowledgement that someone's out there and pleased... and we'll try to accept creative criticism with dignity. Send it to
[email removed] Please and thank you.
<br/>Other websites—[broken link removed] 
</td></tr>
</tbody>
</table>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Our story is set during the Napoleonic wars as illustrated by Bernard Cornwell in his series of 'Sharpe' books and the subsequent TV movies. As our tale begins the British forces are pushing the French out of Spain. Richard Sharpe is now a Major and has been recently widowed. Xena, because of the ambrosia she consumed (Episode: The Quest), is immortal and has been travelling the world for two thousand years since the death of her soulmate, Gabrielle.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/><b>La Princesa Guerrera III<br/>by Carla Jane and Jim</b>
</p>
<p><br/><br/><i>XENA: "Even in death, Gabrielle, I will never leave you."</i>
</p>
<p>Gabrielle was staring up at her with fever bright eyes. Her usually bouncy, golden hair was plastered flat with sweat. Out of her mind with the sickness a poisoned arrow had caused, Gabrielle didn't know where she was.
</p>
<p>The attending warrior had been surprised at the first few words.
</p>
<p>"Xena, you've got to take me with you..."
</p>
<p>Then the dark haired fighter had realised that her companion was reliving a plea made at the very start of their relationship. It wrenched at Xena's heart to hear her lover reciting the short speech again after all this time...knowing that it had inevitably led to Gabrielle at the edge of death while Xena prepared to hold off a army alone.
</p>
<p>"...I want so much to be like you."  The desperate request ended.
</p>
<p>"And I want to be like you." Xena responded with tears in her eyes.
</p>
<p>"But you aren't." Gabrielle sat up, looking sad and disappointed. She carried the scene in a completely different direction. This isn't what had happened back in Greece. "I know you're hurting, love, but vengeance isn't the way to stop the pain." A gentle hand cupped her lover's cheek.
</p>
<p>"I've missed you Gabrielle." Xena leaned into the delicate touch. "I'm so tired of being alone."
</p>
<p>"I know." With those words the bard, the hayloft and everything around her vanished.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Xena fell backwards in shock, flailing in the blanket she had wrapped herself in. Dry Spanish dust puffed up where she struggled against harsh reality.
</p>
<p>It hurt worse than a knife in the chest. She had so few dreams of Gabrielle these days. Her lover had suddenly withdrawn from Xena's dreams right after the attack that had demolished her partisan group, although she had been gradually reappearing over the last fortnight the contact was still sporadic. Why did this rare appearance have to be so brief and wrenching?
</p>
<p>"Are you angry with me?" Xena scrubbed the sleep out of her pale eyes. The sun had gone down. It was time to get back to work. "I just need to finish up here, beloved." She bargained. "As soon as this war is over I'll go someplace quiet and straighten myself out." That might be a lie. Although she didn't want to admit it, the fighter was beginning to enjoy herself. Living like this was like putting a sharp edge on her blade. It gave her a certain cruel satisfaction knowing that the French were aware and afraid of her.
</p>
<p>"What's the point really?" Xena continued to lie on the ground. "I've tried to keep things under control, make sure I was fighting on the side of right all these years, but in the end... what difference does it make, beloved?" How could she be so exhausted after sleeping most of the afternoon? "No matter what I do I'm never going to end up in the Elysian fields with you or in Tartarus hanging on a cross. This is forever. My fate is having to wake up day after day for the rest of eternity knowing we're never going to see each other again."
</p>
<p>A faint voice inside tried to make itself heard, to remind her she wasn't trying to keep control of her savage side for a promise of reward or threat of punishment but for it's own sake. That voice wasn't having much luck breaking through Xena's current depression.
</p>
<p>"I know I said I wouldn't become some kind of monster if fate parted us, but Gods, beloved...it's been so many years. It's not like I'm trying to conquer the continent, that's Bonaparte's job. I'm just trying to hold my ground."
</p>
<p>Xena sat up, shoving her blanket aside. "You promised..." The thought came out more harshly than the warrior intended, like an accusation. "You said where I go, you would go...but you're not here. You'll never be at my side again."
</p>
<p>Her small campsite didn't take much work to tidy up. There was no fire to disguise. All she needed to do was stow the few bits of gear she had unpacked and do a touch of roughing up on the area she had flattened.  Unfortunately the quiet home-like work allowed that small domestic voice to whisper more clearly in her ear. It warned in Gabrielle's sweet tones that eternal life meant living with the consequences of any uncontrolled actions forever.
</p>
<p>"As if that could make this never-ending exile any worse?" Xena countered. "I already hurt all the time. I've earned a right to retribution. They've killed all the people that made your absence bearable. They deserve this, damn it."
</p>
<p>What exactly did they deserve? Where are you going to draw the line and decide they've paid enough? Her conscience gained strength.
</p>
<p>"I'm just making sure they understand they can't mess with this land and these people any more. I'm not going Warlord." The denial had a hollow ring. 
</p>
<p>But that's how it started the first time, wasn't it. The need to defend Amphipolis, her first home, ever so gradually turned outward. Until the best way to protect home was to conquer the world.
</p>
<p>Xena shuddered. "Not that it matters." The Warrior repeated it like a mantra. "Nothing really matters anymore, beloved." She had to get out of this place. The wind in her face would settle her mind. She could eat in the saddle while she set to tracking down tonight's prey.
</p>
<p>A rather large column of about twenty or so had been patrolling back and forth inside the disputed no-man's land between the armies for several days almost as if they were looking for something in particular. 
</p>
<p>"Maybe me." The warrior grinned. It was about time she tracked them down.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>WELLINGTON'S SPYMASTER: "Ducos is a very bad boy. He has the ear of Bonaparte himself. Where he rides, dirty work follows."
</p>
<p>Major Etienne Navarre carefully suppressed the glower that wanted to emerge. When he'd started out on this mission it had been with twenty of the finest soldiers France had to offer. He had always taken a certain amount of pride in his ability to see and choose good men to work under him. Now, between the frustration of constant, fruitless patrols and the influence of that bastard Sergeant and his two cronies the men were reverting to a gang of rowdy hooligans. Damn Major Ducos for inflicting the trio of troublemakers on Navarre. This wasn't the kind of mission he preferred, but that was no excuse for a less than exemplary performance.
</p>
<p>'La Princesa Guerrera' was nowhere and everywhere at once. They had come across plenty of evidence that she was in the area, French bodies and fleeing soldiers, but had yet to find her in person. The woman was clever enough to avoid a company this large. She was mostly taking out four and five man expeditions.
</p>
<p>Then there was Sergeant Francois Malais. Etienne hung to the back of the column, staring blankly down from his horse. He was definitely not in the mood to talk to that hulking bully. What was Ducos thinking, sending Malais out with him? Navarre and the Sergeant were complete opposites. Every hour was a constant battle over the men's loyalty, the path they chose to travel, and how they treated any locals they came across.
</p>
<p>If there was a god, then the spy Ducos and Malais were waiting for would appear soon. Once the young man arrived Sergeant Malais would take him and get out of Etienne's face. Of course with the way the Sergeant talked about the returning agent, Navarre wouldn't blame the man for attempting to bypass Malais completely given half a chance. How could Ducos, an absolute mastermind at espionage, trust this spy to have achieved anything if Sergeant Malais' description was anywhere near accurate? 
</p>
<p>So far Malais had referred to the impending arrival as... the stupid little bastard, the Russian whore, the snot-nosed dirt rat and my animal...among other, even more disgusting things. If Ducos hadn't called Krycek by name Major Navarre still wouldn't know it, not that the information had been worth having to spend ten minutes in the company of that underhanded, evil man. Ducos had engineered the encounter because he knew Etienne wouldn't have accepted the addition of Sergeant Malais and his henchmen to Navarre's company if it hadn't been reinforced with a face to face meeting.
</p>
<p>The thorn in Navarre's side detached from the line of marching soldiers and fell back to walk beside the Major's horse.
</p>
<p>{Supplies are dwindling, Sir.} Sergeant Malais stated, adding a bit of a sneer to the title. {I'm thinking that it's about time I took a few of the men off to do some foraging.}
</p>
<p>Etienne looked down with a cold expression. "Non." He denied the request. {It can wait until tomorrow. We need to cover more ground before setting up anywhere for a short stay.} With most underlings Navarre wouldn't be expected to explain himself but Francois Malais was challenging him with every breath he took. {The Warrior Princess is attacking small parties; therefore even foraging parties need to be at least eight men. If the company is splitting that big a segment off I want to provide a secure base for them to return to.} Not to mention that Malais blood-soaked 'foraging' expeditions tended to take far too long and attracted a lot of attention. If 'La Princesa Guerrera' was going to confront them it would probably be after one of the Sergeant's rampages and she was going to be on the attack at the time. When that happened, Etienne wanted to be ready for it.
</p>
<p>{There's a farm just a bit south of here right now.} Francois argued automatically.
</p>
<p>{There will be more to the east.} Pick your battles carefully, Etienne warned himself yet again. {Perhaps, you can go in the morning.} He stalled. 
</p>
<p>The Sergeant scowled but didn't grumble and snarl in protest for a change. 
</p>
<p>Navarre was more than a little relieved when the big man picked up his feet to rejoin his preferred companions once more.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>KRYCEK: "Where do you get off copping this attitude? I mean, you don't know the first thing about me."
</p>
<p>Aleksandr dared to be a bit more intrusive the second day on the road. Braving Sergeant Harper's dark looks Alek stayed close by while Sharpe questioned the occupants of a farm about partisan activity.
</p>
<p>The farmer had heard a few rumours, which he cautiously relayed to the English after exchanging some not-quite coded references with Major Sharpe. Alek's willingness to open Mulder's heaping purse and overpay for some supplies loosened the farmer's tongue even further. La Princesa Guerrera had stopped at a neighbour's home to trade French coin and a really good pair of boots for food.
</p>
<p>Sharpe didn't bother to translate all the details of the long conversation into English for his Colonel. Alek's Spanish wasn't as good as his French and English but he didn't have any trouble following the quick exchange. Of course he kept his expression carefully blank of understanding. Mulder shouldn't be able to speak the language. His covert attention earned him the name of a local church and the confidence that Father Charles was something of a news source for most of the partisans around here... among other titbits of information.
</p>
<p>Aleksandr pushed away from the fencing he had been leaning against and cleared his throat. It was obvious even if Alek had no grasp of Spanish that the conversation was winding to a close. "Major Sharpe..." He interrupted. "See if the man has any rabbits to spare while you're at it." He withdrew the pilfered coin-sack making it clear that he was prepared to pay for the supplies that had been mentioned earlier. "The men have covered a lot of territory. We could all use a couple of decent meals." The money was handed over and the farmer edged away from the soldiers, clearly wishing they would leave.
</p>
<p>"If it's rabbits you're looking for, Sir, they run wild hereabouts." Harper cut into the exchange. "Perhaps you'd rather shoot a few of the critters yourself." His undertone suggested <i>'get off your damned horse and do some work'</i> quite clearly. "You must miss hunting, Colonel Mulder, Sir. Word has you're quite the crack shot." Patrick said. "I'm sure the men would dearly enjoy a chance to see such a fine ranger as yourself at work." The dare was phrased as a compliment.
</p>
<p>Aleksandr saw the challenge in the set of the Sergeant's mouth but he couldn't rise to it. Mulder might be an expert marksman but Aleksandr faired best in the close quarters of a knife fight. That son of a bitch Harper was annoying the hell out of him. "That's certainly an option, Sergeant." Alek emphasised the rank. "But why waste the time and energy when this farmer can use the hard cash and I've got it to spare. Besides which, with all the action this area has seen I'm sure the hares have been hunted enough. We should leave something for the locals to eat, don't you think?"
</p>
<p>"You know best, Sir." Patrick's eyes said exactly the opposite.
</p>
<p>Alek shot Sharpe a sideways glance but the Major wasn't any help, as usual. "I'm sure there's another stop or two we need to make today." Aleksandr hinted. "I'd like to find out what kind of activity we can expect from the French hereabouts." What he really needed to know was the best direction to run when he slipped away because it looked like tonight was the night.
</p>
<p>"Sergeant Harper and I could swing around to a town I know of...do a bit of poking about Colonel Mulder." Sharpe jumped at the chance for some distance. "We'll meet back up with you and the men just east of the next cross-roads."
</p>
<p>Harper was hoisting his pack back into place when the Colonel spoke.
</p>
<p>"No." Aleksandr left no doubt that what he said next was an order. "Sergeant Harper will take the supplies, the men, and my horse to the rendezvous point. I will go with you Major Sharpe." The spy levelled a cold green glare at Harper. Much to Alek's satisfaction the Irish man frowned and narrowed his own eyes in response to the unspoken malice. It could be the Sergeant seemed to realise, for the first time, that the man in front of him might actually be dangerous. "Take that, you Paddy bastard." He'd had enough of the big man's subtle intimidation tactics and Sharpe's chilly avoidance. "We'll take Harris with us." Alek claimed his favourite among the men to ease the Major's expression of alarm.
</p>
<p>"And Hagman." Sharpe added, although he would have preferred to demand they all stay together at this point. Tramping through disputed territory with Harper at his back was one thing, doing the same with just Colonel Mulder was near on suicide.
</p>
<p>"Fine." Alek conceded. Longhaired Hagman had proven quietly unobtrusive so far. "Feel free to use my horse as a pack animal for the supplies, Sergeant. I'd just as soon walk with the Major for the rest of the day." The small, double-edged favour earned nothing. Harper seemed to be barely controlling his glower of hatred. "Which way, Major Sharpe?" Aleksandr prompted.
</p>
<p>"Harris! Hagman!" Sharpe beckoned. "This way Colonel Mulder." He set off. The quicker they checked in with Rameriez, the quicker they could rejoin the others.
</p>
<p>A few long strides brought Alek to Sharpe's side. He let the silence be until they were ten minutes on the road. The men trailed a few feet behind the officers. Harris and Alek watched more to the right while Sharpe and Hagman concentrated left. "The other morning...I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable Richard." Aleksandr spoke without looking.
</p>
<p>This was not a conversation Sharpe wanted to participate in. He studied the passing scenery with more concentration than the flat, open fields required.
</p>
<p>"I wasn't trying to force anything on you. I know how that feels. I wouldn't do that to you, Richard." Alek let go a sigh. "I am sorry." The apology actually prompted Sharpe to glance over at the younger man. The Major seemed even more confused than when Alek had made the pass at him.
</p>
<p>"Forget it." Richard finally managed to say, wishing he could do that himself.
</p>
<p>Aleksandr fell quiet. The part of his mind that wasn't occupied with watching his surroundings drifted. He wondered if Ducos would allow him a visit to Paris before dispatching him on yet another unsavoury errand. He hadn't seen his little brother and sister in over four months now. It was hard to keep playing the game, doing as he was told, without making contact with the reasons behind his obedience.
</p>
<hr/>
<p> 
<i>Tatyana and baby Dimitri, the last two living members of his family, became hostages for Alek's continued good behaviour. Malais realised that Aleksandr cared more about them than his own well being. The brutal soldier had pounded Alek into a battered heap without gaining the location of the wine cellar or any other hidden assets. A search of the manor and the bodies had turned up no jewellery or portable wealth but the French knew that such a well-to-do estate should have things like silverware somewhere about. All it took was Malais grabbing poor, screaming Tatyana by the hair and Aleksandr had babbled every hiding place on the farm to distract the thieving bully.
</i></p>
<p>That had been only the beginning. Upon reflection Alek was disgusted by how quickly he had gone from disclosing the hiding place of Mama's jewellery to offering up observations of Russian troop movements he had witnessed. Papa's maps of the surrounding countryside had bought Tati and Dima some food and water. Alek's willingness to drop to his knees for the soldiers whenever it was required had preserved Tatyana's ten-year-old innocence.
</p>
<p>He sometimes wondered if things would have turned out better or worse if Pierre Ducos hadn't been passing through the camp and taken an interest in Malais' toy. Aleksandr could feel those talon-like fingers knotting in his hair even now, forcing his bruised face up. It frightened Alek, the way the spymaster's glasses flashed, reflecting the light and hiding the thoughts behind his cold eyes. Not too far away Tatyana was attempting to muffle Dimitri's wail of sadness as their big brother and protector took up a position that suggested yet more punishment. God above, he wished these bastards would let his sister take the kid somewhere else so the eight-year-old didn't have to watch this.
</p>
<p>{Yes, Sergeant, he's very amusing...} The oily voice complimented Alek's tormentor on his consummate job of breaking the young man. {But is he perhaps useful as more than a punching bag? Your French is impeccable, boy. I suspect you've been schooled thoroughly. How many languages do you speak?}
</p>
<p>A musket butt thumped casually into Alek's recently carved right shoulder causing a stream of blood to run down Aleksandr's spine. That was Malais' way of punctuating the other man's question.
</p>
<p>{Seven.} Alek had gasped out. He had learned to answer Malais quickly and offer more information wherever relevant. The rules seemed to apply to this Major as well. {I can read five.}
</p>
<p>A slow reptilian blink and a hint of a lipless smile followed. Ducos had removed his spectacles, unnecessarily cleaning them before continuing. {Clever boy. How would you like it if I took your brother and sister to Paris and put them in a nice, safe school...with nuns looking after them instead of these rough soldiers?} The devil made his offer.
</p>
<p>Aleksandr had gazed up and signed his soul away without even a moment's hesitation. {I'll do anything you want.}
</p>
<p>{Yes.} An amused chuckle hissed out. {Yes, you will. Well, Sergeant Malais I do believe you've just found a ticket off the front lines...provided you can keep your little pet performing properly.}
</p>
<p>{That's not a problem, Sir.} The big Sergeant swatted absently, knocking Alek into the cold dirt.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Aleksandr shook the memory of Russia away. Now was not the time for wallowing in the past. The day was fine and bright, Harper was far away, and Sharpe was nearby...pleasantly confused by Alek. This was as close to having fun as his life got these days. "You look tense, Richard." He began. "I suppose it's odd, being on the road like this with me."
</p>
<p>Sharpe glanced briefly over, a crease forming between his brows. "I'm told you're an accomplished fighter, Sir. I'm sure we could hold our own at need." Where was Mulder going with this odd conversation?
</p>
<p>"Yes." Alek agreed absently. "But I feel like I've broken up an old married couple. You and Sergeant Harper are so close. You definitely seem to prefer having him on your back rather than me."
</p>
<p>"At!" Sharpe corrected quickly. "I trust Sergeant Harper AT my back." This needling brat was supposed to be the best the colonies had to offer. The man was nothing but a mass of contradictions. A tracker who rode a horse rather than staying near the ground. A woodsman who seemed more comfortable talking to the only scholar in Sharpe's crew than minding what was going on about him. Not to mention the flirting. Shite.
</p>
<p>"Do you have a woman at the moment, Richard?" Sharpe's faltering step at hearing the question almost made the spy laugh.
</p>
<p>"A woman, Sir?" The Major's fingers gripped his rifle tightly. Not this again.
</p>
<p>"Yes, Richard, a female that you rather enjoy wrestling in the blankets with on a regular basis." Alek defined innocently. "I'd be frightfully surprised if you didn't, you're being such a handsome man and all. Unless you don't go for that sort of thing."
</p>
<p>I could shoot him. Sharpe told himself. Harris and Hagman would back me up if I said a French sniper took him down, especially if they could hear what the man was saying right now. Shite. If they could hear Mulder then all this was going to get back to Harper. "I..." He shook his head, trying to decide how best to react.
</p>
<p>"I think your integrity must attract women. It's an extremely potent temptation..." Alek continued. "...to some...women. It makes you very enticing." The last sentence was almost purred out.
</p>
<p>Richard dared a quick inspection of the Colonel, who offered up an innocuous smile. He was having a hard time thinking of a response that couldn't be misinterpreted. The man was right on the edge of the line but he hadn't quite stepped over. Maybe Mulder didn't mean any harm, but it was making him crazy. "My wife died a short time ago." Sharpe snapped,  growing irate with the odd game the other man seemed to be playing. "I've yet to find another woman that's her equal." 
</p>
<p>Aleksandr had to bite his tongue to prevent the thought that leap to the forefront of his mind from escaping. "It's probably because you're considering the wrong gender." Saying that aloud after such a grim revelation would be inexcusable. "I'm sorry." Alek finally said aloud.
</p>
<p>This apology sounded sincere, but then so had the last. If nothing else, the disclosure had wiped the smug expression off the Colonel's face, but Sharpe was still wary. "Hagman!" He turned all the way around. "I saw something moving at the tree-line." It was a lie, but Richard had taken enough. "Harris, mind the Colonel's back while we take a quick look about over there." Right about now, a French attack would be a welcome distraction. He jogged over the rough ground, wondering if Mulder was laughing behind his back.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>GABRIELLE: "I'm looking for my best friend. Maybe you've seen her? Six feet tall, dark hair, lots of leather. She fights like the harpies in a bad mood. Her name's Xena."
</p>
<p> When Dana stumbled for the sixth time in fifteen minutes Gabrielle came to a decision. The younger girl's attempt was valiant but a rest was definitely in order. "I could use a break." She angled her path to the side of the dirt roadway, covertly watching her companion as she did. Dana's pretty face was set into a grimace. Her body moved as if every step was a trial. The young man's rifleman uniform that had looked so smart on her yesterday night was sweat marked, dusty and hanging untidily open.
</p>
<p>"I don't want William to think I can't keep up." Dana hesitated, sorely tempted to collapse into the nearby scrub. Still, she was the one that had demanded the opportunity to come along, so certain that she would be able to handle it. Bad enough he was already ranging ahead and off to the sides of the women, chafing at every delay.
</p>
<p>"Come sit with me for a few minutes, Dana." Gabrielle lifted her canteen to take a short drink as she settled to the ground. "The pace Fox is insisting on..." Her blonde head tipped, indicating the patch of ground beside her. "He's got a fairly deep well of emotional energy right now. He's so angry." The water in the container sloshed as she offered Dana a chance to drink. "Just you wait, by tonight he'll collapse." They had been walking almost constantly since leaving the British camp. Gabrielle was honestly surprised Dana hadn't broken down yet.
</p>
<p>The Irish woman dropped heavily down beside the bard. After swallowing a few gulps of water her small hand immediately moved to massage the muscles of her upper legs, attempting to still the twitching flesh. "Thank you." Dana spoke softly. She blotted her damp upper lip with the sleeve of the green jacket that Ramona had scrounged up. "I know you don't really need the break."
</p>
<p>"By the time we finish this mission your feet will be so tough you'll be able to outmarch most of Wellington's army." Gabrielle complimented with an encouraging grin. "You're doing amazingly well, considering we've been at this since last night." 
</p>
<p>"Considering what I am, you mean." Dana's tone was grim. "I do venture out of the parlour. My Da's estate is a working farm with a lot of tenants...and we haven't been what you could call wealthy since before my Granddad died." Her blue eyes scanned the area, looking for William to reappear. "I took my turn in the fields. We only have one horse so I walked nearly everywhere I needed to go." Dana stretched herself. "I did some doctoring...birthing babies, setting bones, and such. The nearest proper doctor cares more for his wealthy town patients. He only comes out our way for coin in advance." She frowned at the treeline.
</p>
<p>"He'll notice we've stopped and come back." Gabrielle assured her companion.
</p>
<p>"He'll come back for you. He needs you." A whine threatened. It wasn't easy standing by while Gabrielle talked to the locals and William's eyes ate up the beautiful blonde. Dana hated feeling useless but that had become an almost continuous state of being since she had left Ireland. 
</p>
<p>"I'm not what he needs." Gabrielle argued. A thoughtful pause delayed her next sentence. "He needs a partner, someone to help him put things into perspective. I've absolutely no desire to be that person for Fox. I'm already in a rather challenging relationship." The bard waited, studying the girl's reaction.
</p>
<p>Dana stilled. Her mouth pushed out into a small frown and her brows lifted slightly.
</p>
<p>"You seem rather fond of him considering you've only just met." Gabrielle shifted the topic, not giving Dana too much time to chew on the revelation. 
</p>
<p>Blue eyes blinked. "Samantha Mulder." Dana began awkwardly. "I mean I've been exchanging letters with William's sister, Samantha. She practically worships the ground her brother walks on." A faint laugh escaped. "I've been trying to take her words with a grain of salt. It looks like I should have dumped a sack's worth on her praise." Dana's tone was tinted with bitterness. "Still, he's a damned sight more interesting than the local boy my Pa had his eye on. Sean is a sweet angel of a boy but he's plain as Ma's porridge." She shook her head. "Sean and Dana Pendrell and their herd of red-haired, freckled kids. I just couldn't see my life going that way." She scraped the sweat-dampened curls by her forehead back. "I just thought William would be more like Patrick...or Major Sharpe...but with a bit more...charm."
</p>
<p>"You're not getting a complete portrait." Gabrielle shook her head. Fox and Dana had shown one another only masks so far and in Fox's case it was a rather nasty mask. "He's putting on a show for the army, for me, for you, for his father...who isn't even here. He's so busy trying to be what everyone expects that he's losing track of his real self. I think you'd like Fox if you ever got a chance to meet him, Dana. The man we're following right now...he's not the same person as he was just two days ago. That man is trying too hard to be Lieutenant Colonel William Mulder the third." Gabrielle looked over at her companion to see if any of this was penetrating. 
</p>
<p>The thoughtful frown on Dana's face suggested it was.
</p>
<p>A mischievous grin lit up Gabrielle's face. "Maybe I should try knocking him on his ass with my staff and see if that shakes him out of this strange mood he's in." 
</p>
<p>That image induced a muffled giggle from both the women. 
</p>
<p>As if conjured, the man they were discussing paced over the rise in the road and back towards them. Gabrielle stayed where she was, elbows resting on her knees, and watched the approach. It took some concentration to look past the angry frown on Mulder's face. The lines she had noticed earlier on his forehead and between his brows were now cut in with dirt and exhaustion. His eyes were sunken and the changeable blue-green had shifted to a dark murkiness. She sighed. He was just as worn out as they were but too obstinate to admit it.
</p>
<p>Out of habit, Dana popped up to her feet at Mulder's arrival, heedless of the wash of pain that caused. Her pale fingers flicked nervously to her hair, trying to tidy up wind tangled curls. "William. Any luck?"
</p>
<p>"If you had bothered to walk just a little further you would have seen the next town yourself." He snapped at his intended before turning his attention to Gabrielle. Long legs folded as he squatted down to look the blonde in the eye. "None of them speak any English or French much past prices and whether I want a chicken or some wine." He neck cracked faintly. "Could you please come down and talk to the man in the tavern, Gabrielle? He's saying something about French soldiers and La Princesa Guerrera that I can't make head nor tails of." Fox gave up a weary smile. He rose, extending his hand to pull the resting woman up.
</p>
<p>Gabrielle ignored the gesture. "Sit back down Dana. I said I wanted ten minutes rest and I intend to take ten minutes. We've earned it." 
</p>
<p>The Irish woman glanced from William to Gabrielle then back again. She flexed her shoulders back briefly then purposefully lowered herself back down beside her friend. Dana watched William's face as she moved.
</p>
<p>Mulder's hands clenched into fists and he turned his face away to stare, unseeing, down the road. "But it's just over that hill." His voice was gritty, struggling internally with the urge to shout.
</p>
<p>Gabrielle sadly suspected that Mulder's first inclination was to strike out at the source of the annoyance. It didn't take much to guess where he'd learned that reaction. It was a point in his favour that he didn't go so far as to lift his hand. She made sure her tone was playful. "I'm sure it's stood there for years, Fox. It's not like to get swallowed up by the earth in the few minutes it takes for us to catch our breath." The blonde soothed. "Won't you sit down with us?"
</p>
<p>"He's getting further away all the time."
</p>
<p>"Grinding yourself and us into the dirt with exhaustion before we reach the spy isn't going to do anyone any good." She countered, studying him.
</p>
<p>"I know that." Fox's voice broke on the last word. "I'm sorry. It's just..." He tipped his face up full into the light, rocking slightly on his heels. "Your Warrior Princess will still be there if we take a little longer, Gabrielle, but Alex is going to be making a break for the border as soon as he's close enough."
</p>
<p>Strange that Fox would use the man's first name, the bard noted. "If Lord Wellington isn't worried about what the spy might know...is it really that important you catch him." She tested.
</p>
<p>"HE DECEIVED ME!" The accusation roared out before Fox took hold of his temper and forced his expression back to blank fatigue. "He's stole my horse, my weapons, my uniform...Skinner gave me that pistol!" A French curse strong enough to burn the bard's ears hissed out. He really wasn't thinking straight anymore.
</p>
<p>"And..." Gabrielle gestured with her hand. "It's about more than you, Fox."
</p>
<p>A guilty glance in his fiancee's direction made him add. "...and Dana's diary."
</p>
<p>The redhead gaped in surprise that he even thought to mention it, despite the storyteller's prodding, let alone use her name. Dana wasn't sure she'd ever heard him speak her given name aloud before this.
</p>
<p>His eyes were closed, pointed straight at the sun. "It's a matter of honour, Gabrielle. I can't let him live, not after what he did." A shudder ran through Mulder's tall frame. "I trusted him, damn it." The last came out as an unconscious, whispered confession
</p>
<p>She gazed up at the tall man. There had to more involved in this hunt for the French spy than Fox was admitting. None of the things he mentioned were worth the kind of fury he was displaying and the remark about 'trust' was rather peculiar. "Fox." Gabrielle almost whispered, forcing him to pay attention. "Why don't you give Dana a hand with her pack and we'll head down into town." Her voice coaxed.
</p>
<p>"Sure. Fine. Whatever." Mulder snatched up the indicated bundle from where Dana had set it and hooked it over one shoulder. He turned on his heel and started walking.
</p>
<p>The women pushed reluctantly to their feet. They exchanged a brief, tired gaze.
</p>
<p>"Just a little further, Dana." The blonde promised before returning her attention to her other problem. Gabrielle had to take a couple of quick steps to catch up to Fox if she wanted to speak to him. "I'm getting the impression from the people I've been talking to that we've by-passed Major Sharpe's lot entirely." She observed. 
</p>
<p>"It doesn't matter." Fox studied the dirt under his feet. "Their mission was to find the Warrior Princess so wherever she is they'll be close by even if they came in from another direction. We may even have cut needless travelling out by taking this route. I should be able to pick up the trail from her position." He was almost mumbling, embarrassed by his earlier outburst.
</p>
<p>Dana forced her tired legs into action once more, trailing in the wake of William and Gabrielle. Maybe he had been right back at the camp. So far she had done nothing but slow the storyteller down. Gabrielle was kind to pretend as if the stops were something she would have done anyway but Dana knew better. A sharp bolt of pain shot up from her heel. Dana really was trying her best but if she didn't get more than a ten-minute breather soon she was going to collapse. When harvest time rolled around at home the hard labour was always supported by good meals and encouraging praise. Right now the only thing that kept her from falling down was imagining the look of contempt that William would turn on her. The boy's back home would never treat her like this. They knew she'd rip a strip off their hides and strangle them with it if they offended Dana Katherine Scully. The unfortunate side effect of her reputation was that every one of those same boys turned into fawning fools around her. "Just like you're doing with William." Dana frowned. There had to be a middle ground but she was just too tired and discouraged to look for it right now.
</p>
<p>"There." Mulder pointed with the barrel of his rifle. His free hand dropped to rest at the small of Gabrielle's back, guiding her. "The tavern is the two story with the out-buildings behind it."
</p>
<p>Gabrielle stepped forward quickly to evade the casual touch, knowing how it would look to Dana. "Is it just a tavern or is it an inn as well?"
</p>
<p>"It's both." Fox shouldered his weapon. His earlier scouting of the area had shown it harmless. "I suppose we could stay long enough to eat."
</p>
<p>Gabrielle made no comment aloud but booking a room was a foregone conclusion unless the news was startling and they had to act immediately. A locked door would cancel out the need for someone to sit up at watch while the others rested.
</p>
<p>Curious eyes turned their way as the trio walked down into the town. They made quite the picture... the tall, lanky man and the two small, foreign women. Gabrielle's indiscriminately offered bright smile and the fact Dana wore a British soldier's uniform drew even more attention.
</p>
<p>Once inside the cool, dark interior of the tavern Dana nearly dropped into one of the hard chairs. She watched William guide the storyteller to the bar. He then hovered about her as she talked to the owner.
</p>
<p>A young boy was called over to the grouping, given some orders, then dispatched. The child ran out the door a moment later. William seemed to be gazing after the messenger as if he wanted to follow.
</p>
<p>Gabrielle drifted over to where her newest friend sat. The blonde shrugged out of her pack and set all of her loose gear on the floor beside them. "That little boy who just left is going to get us the location Xena was last seen at. We can't do anything until he returns." Gabrielle informed. "How about we get a decent meal while we're waiting for him?"
</p>
<p>"Yes, thank you." Dana leaned back into the curved wood.
</p>
<p>"Fox!" Gabrielle called to him. "There's nothing we can do right now. Sit down and eat while we've got time."
</p>
<p>Mulder's mouth opened then shut again without a comment escaping.
</p>
<p>"I'm buying." Gabrielle bribed in a husky voice earning a ghost of smile from the man.
</p>
<p>"Please William." Dana asked softly. "I haven't heard from Samantha since I left home. Did she see you off on your journey? How is she? She told me about that tumble she took from her horse and breaking her arm. I was worried." Maybe talking about his sister was the best way to begin.
</p>
<p>He took a defensive step backwards.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>The stark white of the sling supporting Sam's arm had caught his eye the first moment Fox came in the door. The blackening about his little sister's eyes wasn't so obvious as it had already begun fading. Sam hadn't even tried to blame it on a riding accident to him. No horse in Father's stable was a match for Sam's equestrian abilities. Besides, after all his experience Fox knew the signs. Mother refused to look him straight in the eye and offered only the briefest 'welcome home' hug. Father had glared at his eldest from across the room, daring him to say anything. Samantha clung, whispering a request that 'could he please stay home until his ship sailed' and 'how he'd best wash the smell of the Indians off and dress properly for dinner' because Father was in a bad mood.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>"I'm not hungry." Fox's stomach had clenched up into a tight knot making the statement true. He retreated further. The sooner he married this girl staring up at him and sent her home, the sooner he could tell Sam to join his new wife in Ireland...getting her out of Father's reach. The problem was all he wanted to do was run for the not so distant hills. "I'm going to look around. Be ready to go as soon as that kid comes back." Fox tossed Dana's pack to the floor, turned and walked out of the building.
</p>
<p>"He hates me. I shouldn't have come."
</p>
<p>"He doesn't even know you." Gabrielle countered quickly. The sadness in Dana's tone was painful. She patted the younger girl's arm. "I know you're trying. That you've kept up so far proves how strong your commitment is. Don't be so hard on yourself."
</p>
<p>With a weary sigh the blue eyes closed. "I wish I was more like you, Gabrielle. I wish you could teach me how."
</p>
<p>"Don't judge yourself by me. I've been at this a lot longer than you have. Strength comes in many different forms, Dana." It felt odd. For so many years Gabrielle had followed Xena around trying to learn the secret to the older woman's self-confidence, only to discover that there was no trick involved, only time and experience. This girl is like a rippled reflection of her own distant past.
</p>
<p>"When I was a little girl..." Dana had laid her coppery head down on her arms. "I thought my Da was a towering tree of a man." Her voice was introspective. "I found out as I got older that he wasn't. He's shorter and rounder than I thought. He's got no head for money and a weakness for sure-things that never are...but by the Sidhe...he loves Ma, Melissa and me with every bit of his soul, so it doesn't really matter." Dana squirmed to get more comfortable. "Still, I've always had this picture in the back of my mind of a tall, handsome man. The kind of man that turns every head when he walks into a room. Who's..." She yawned. "Smart...and sure of himself."
</p>
<p>Gabrielle smiled.
</p>
<p>"William, he looks just like my picture. Weird, huh? My family needs somebody to make things work again... an' he's so..."
</p>
<p>Gabrielle thought for a moment that she had fallen asleep but Dana murmured out one more word.
</p>
<p>"...incredible."
</p>
<p>The bard crooked her fingers, catching the innkeeper's attention. "I'd like some supper please, and two rooms if you have the space."
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>SHARPE: "If Harper was here he'd have me tent up...and the tea brewing ... and me bed turned down." 
</p>
<p>The smell of dinner lead Sharpe to the place Harper had chosen to camp more surely than any noise or light. Seven rabbits were roasting on spits over the fire. A pot filled with eggs and boiling water bubbled down in coals surrounded by roasting tubers. As soon as Richard spied out where Patrick was sitting he all but ran to the Irishman's side. That made Colonel Mulder halt, leaving Sharpe's company as soon as Richard's destination became clear.
</p>
<p>"You've no idea how glad I am to see you, Pat." The blonde Major tossed his jacket down where the rest of his gear sat waiting.
</p>
<p>"It must be hard, Sir...being so irresistible." Came the amused, whispered comment.
</p>
<p>"Enough already, Pat." The warning was close to a plea. "There's a large French column that's been marching back and forth not far from here." Richard turned the topic. "We need to keep a close watch tonight... although Rameriez says they've stayed north of here so far and they aren't sending scouts too far from the main force."
</p>
<p>"They want to draw the Warrior Princess into trying to attack them." Patrick reasoned.
</p>
<p>"Considering how rough they're being with locals while they're foraging that's a good guess." Sharpe covertly looked about, trying to see where Mulder was. The younger man had settled down just inside the reach of firelight. The sun was close to setting and the Colonel probably wanted to see. He had extracted the small burgundy book that he had been sneaking peeks at all day. "After dinner we should put out the fire." Richard remarked.
</p>
<p>Their commander looked up at just that moment, intercepting Sharpe's gaze. "I'm thinking..." The younger man began in a voice loud enough for all to hear. "...that tomorrow we should keep well clear of the French column. Your contact was quite adamant that it was a very large group, Major. Considering the size of the company the Warrior Princess isn't likely to take them on. What we need to turn up is a smaller patrol that she's likely to attack. If we shadowed a three or four man outfit the chances of finding her nearby are higher."
</p>
<p>Sharpe wondered how clearly Mulder had heard his exchange with Pat. 
</p>
<p>"As you say, Sir." Harper took Mulder's attention onto himself, inclining his head in feigned politeness. "Then you'll be tracking a group of the buggers down for us in the morning." He stated. "I'm sure none of us lads are anywhere near the trail readers that you are, Sir."
</p>
<p>The small book snapped shut. "Of course, Sergeant Harper. There's quite a few things that you obviously need to learn." Aleksandr sneered. It was a pity that Ducos didn't have a price on this one's head instead of Richard's. Mixing business with pleasure was one of the few joys in Alek's life. He reached over to snag the stick holding the largest roasted hare. Aleksandr was going to need his strength tonight. He had a lot of ground to cover. "Douse the fire, Perkins." He ordered the youngest of the men. "We don't have dinner enough to share with the French."
</p>
<p>Richard and Patrick exchanged a loaded look, convinced Mulder was just echoing what he had overheard from them.
</p>
<p>"Eat up lads." Major Sharpe picked out a cony for himself, signalling that they should all help themselves.  The rabbits and some bread bought at the farmhouse disappeared first bringing a temporary silence. As the coals began to cool Richard attempted to fish a roasted yam out. He caught hold of the blackened root only to drop it again with a muffled yelp of pain. Damn but the thing was hot.
</p>
<p>Snickers of amusement erupted from the men at their Major's frantic waving of his injured hand. Perkins actually choked briefly on a sip of tea.
</p>
<p>"Son of a bitch! Pipe down...the lot of you." Sharpe snapped. "It weren't funny. That bloody well hurt." He complained.
</p>
<p>Aleksandr's lazy drawl slipped into a break in the now-muffled amusement. "Aww...did the nasty bad fire hurt the poor Major's paw?" He grinned mischievously. "Would the Major like me to kiss it better?" His lips pursed with suggestion.
</p>
<p>The words and attitude set the lads to whooping with laughter once more. Sharpe stood speechless at the officer's clandestine proposition. 
</p>
<p>Alek's pulse rate jumped. "Jesus fucking Christ, just this once say yes and I'll run my tongue over any bit of skin you offer, gorgeous." His mind skidded out of control. What would he give for an hour in the dark of the woods with the handsome Major? But then he wouldn't have an excuse not to carry out Ducos' kill order in the unguarded aftermath. He didn't want to murder Richard for several reasons...the strongest of which was the prospect of Harper hunting him down afterwards. The snarling Irishman scared him shitless.
</p>
<p>"It's fine." Sharpe's gaze flicked from the laughing men, to Mulder's mock sympathetic frown, then across to where Harper sat. "I'm fine." "I'm going to kill him. Tomorrow, I going to kill him myself."
</p>
<p>Knowing the pattern behind Mulder's actions, Patrick wasn't amused. The big man had set aside the remains of his meal and picked up his rifle and cleaning rag. "That's always the way of things..." He began vaguely. "Our officers are forever suffering mishaps...both minor and large." Patrick's voice raised to expound to the entire group. "It makes me think it's just as well we're to be avoiding the frogs on this trip. Our record with brand new officers is especially bad." He addressed Cooper, who just happened to look up at that moment. "Do ya' recall the Colonel we got a few months back, the one with the pointed face?" Harper asked. "Colonel Spender...just a young, green kid. Wouldn't you know he took a shot to the back of his head in his first battle."
</p>
<p>Cooper nodded slowly, catching onto the game the Sergeant wanted to play. "Yeah...it  were the strangest thing. Colonel Spender must have been running from the French...to take a ball in the back like that."
</p>
<p>"Must have." Patrick agreed. "Though I can't clearly recall him turning that stiff back of his on anyone but us. Maybe the shot did some kind of odd sort of ricochet."
</p>
<p>"I've seen that happen." Hagman joined in, lazily nodding confirmation. "Musket balls are funny things."
</p>
<p>"Yeap. Nothing can compare to a proper rifle...like we carry...when we follow our noble officers into battle." At every pause Harper dared a quick peek at their Colonel.
</p>
<p>"Then there was that other one a while ago." Cooper kept at it. "Major Colton, wasn't it?"
</p>
<p>That name brought an overly dramatic wince to Harper's face. "Aye. There weren't much left of that poor soul after he took that tumble from the cliff...just bits of white bone sticking out of a red smear." Harper noticed with some pleasure that a satisfying crease now marked Mulder's smooth brow. "His face was so crushed as to make an identification impossible. His Lordship had nothing to rely on but our word when it came to saying who it was and what happened to the poor bugger."
</p>
<p>Major Sharpe settled back in the shadows behind Patrick with a cool cloth pressed to his damaged hand. It was a relief to have Pat taunting someone else for a change.
</p>
<p>"Things just happen on the trail." Cooper observed aloud.
</p>
<p>"And in war." Harper agreed. "There was poor Colonel Lawford." The burly Sergeant stared straight at their new officer. "The Major here had to hack off the Colonel's arm after Ciudad Rodrigo to save him. That's a mighty painful experience for a  man to go through... don't you think so...Colonel?" 
</p>
<p>Alek couldn't help but shudder in reaction to that circumstance. The idea of being crippled absolutely terrified him.
</p>
<p>"Being an officer is mighty risky business, from what I've seen. I listened to Major Sharpe's lessons." Young Perkins jumped in, eager to join the conversation although he didn't really understand the others' intentions. "Aim at the officers first."
</p>
<p>Aleksandr fought down the urge to toss a knife at the smug grin the Sergeant was now wearing. A parting shot would be satisfying but incredibly foolish. There was a French column not too far away. These sons of bitches were getting on his nerves. Sharpe wasn't giving him any reason to delay his departure. Alek looked about. Best of all, and rare in it's foolishness, the paranoid bastards hadn't got round to setting up their pickets yet. Now was the time to get the hell out of here. "I'm going to clean up." Aleksandr announced flatly. Let them think their childish tactics had gotten to him. "There's a stream just a little ways over there." He gestured. Alek had noticed it on the way back from checking out Sharpe's last contact. His boots were going to get soaked but if he ran down the waterway a fair bit before striking out north it would confuse the issue of his disappearance a little longer. It wouldn't hurt to be able to claim it all as a misunderstanding if, for any reason, Sharpe caught up with him. Alek hunched his shoulders and put a chastised slink in his steps. Let them think their teasing was the cause of his retreat.
</p>
<p>With the outsider gone from their circle, the men's chatter drifted into a more comfortable stage.
</p>
<p>Harris, who had kept quiet during the Mulder baiting, finally joined the conversation. "This isn't the first time I've ever heard of a woman called 'The Warrior Princess'." He began.
</p>
<p>Sharpe slid forward, rejoining the group.
</p>
<p>"There's an ancient Greek legend that uses that same title."
</p>
<p>"Whacha mean, Harris?" Cooper frowned. The other man's stories tended to get too highbrow unless the occasional question was asked.
</p>
<p>"Greece is a country on the far side of the Mediterranean Sea that has a lot of history." Harris clarified. "Some say Greece is the cradle of modern civilisation."
</p>
<p>"A priest tried to teach me history once. It was bloody dry stuff, even with all the begettings." Cooper complained.
</p>
<p>"Shut it, Cooper." Hagman shoved slightly. "Tell us about her Harris."
</p>
<p>"The tales were set a long time ago...back when giants and magic was thought to be real." Harris started again. "This Warrior Princess was the leader of an army and she was trying to take over the whole countryside...just like Bonaparte. She could fight better than any man in her army and the towns were falling before her forces like wheat before a hailstorm." He leaned forward. "The Princess was just a few steps away from being downright evil when a miraculous change came over her. A righteous warrior showed her she was on the wrong path."
</p>
<p>"So she just needed a husband to pull her into line, then." Cooper decided aloud, earning himself another thump for interrupting.
</p>
<p>"No. No." Harris shook his shaggy, red-topped head. "After the Warrior Princess decided to chuck the evil emperor business she hooked up with a beautiful, female bard." He paused. "That's like a storyteller or a balladeer." Came the explanation. "Anyway, after that the Warrior Princess started travelling about with this girl...fighting for the common folk against all the other evils in the world to make up for her past misdeeds." He concluded.
</p>
<p>"Them Greek types Harris is talking about...they weren't soldiers, not like us. They sound more like bandits." Perkins turned to Richard with a frown of confusion. "They didn't have rifles back then either, did they Major Sharpe?" 
</p>
<p>"It isn't the weapon that says if you're a soldier or not." Richard explained. "Teresa never usually bothered with a rifle...her pistol and blades did her just fine. I'd say she had the heart of true warrior."
</p>
<p>"That she did Sir." Hagman commented. "A damned fine woman she was." 
</p>
<p>Harper started to chuckle. "So...do you think you could convert her and set La Princesa Guerrera on the straight and narrow, Major Sharpe, Sir?" He grinned.
</p>
<p>"I said a righteous warrior." Harris sniggered. "Besides, where around here are we going to find a lady singer to hook the Princesa up with afterwards?"
</p>
<p>"Laugh it up, lads." Richard mock-growled. "The pair of you are looking good for a double turn at watch right about now."
</p>
<p>Their attempts to seem meekly repentant were even less convincing than Sharpe's anger, but then that was the whole point of the scenario. They continued on in that same tone until full dark and the nearby hoot of an owl made the lateness of the hour clear.
</p>
<p>Harris was the one to gaze out into the black of the woods. "Excuse me, Sir." He looked to Sharpe. "But hasn't the Colonel been gone a bit too long?"
</p>
<p>That silenced all of them.
</p>
<p>"Shite. Knowing our luck the damned fool has drowned in the bloody stream or gotten himself lost." Richard rose to his feet. "Harper, you stay here. He's more like to hide if he sees you coming after him. Perkins, help the Sergeant secure the site. Cooper you're with me. Harris and Hagman take a bit to the right." He swore vividly. "Let's find the silly bugger before the French do."
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>(To Mulder):    "You kindly think of yourself as single-minded but you're prone to obsessive compulsiveness, workaholism, antisocialism... Fertile fields for the descent into total wacko breakdown."
</p>
<p>Gabrielle noticed when Mulder returned to the tavern but chose not to acknowledge him as he crossed the floor to where she stood, by the bar.
</p>
<p>"I saw the kid come back." Fox stated after she had ignored him for an entire minute. "Where is he? What did he say?:
</p>
<p>Gabrielle turned, looking up at the tired man. "I've got directions to where she was last sighted...and, yes, there is a small British patrol headed her way." She braced for an argument. "We'll move out first thing in the morning. I took two rooms for the night. Dana and I can share one, you can have the other."
</p>
<p>His eyes closed and he turned his face away, a carefully controlled movement. "You have no right to hold me back like this, Gabrielle. You're not being fair." Fox's tone had gone completely flat.
</p>
<p>She looked down. As expected, both his hands were balled into fists and his arms trembled slightly. "I'm tired and you're exhausted, Fox." The woman reasoned. "Going into a dangerous situation in the shape we're in would be foolish...if not suicidal."
</p>
<p>"That's my decision to make." A shout threatened but he was holding it back.
</p>
<p>"No. It's not." The Amazon stood firm. "I don't know where you got the idea that you were in charge of this expedition...but get over it." She kept the scolding as sisterly as possible. "If you want to go tonight and spend tomorrow chasing your tail I can't stop you, Fox, but I won't go along and watch you die because you're too tired to do the job properly."
</p>
<p>"FINE!" The shout erupted. "Tell me what the boy said and I'll go alone."
</p>
<p>Gabrielle waited, watching his face for a brief moment of control before speaking. "No. Learn Spanish, find the kid if you can, and ask him yourself." Gods, but he was a lot like Xena in a temper. Yeah, there was the hot flash of fire in his eyes and the tightening of the jaw. She almost laughed but he would have misunderstood it as cruelty. The heavy bottom-lip pout he turned on the floor cracked Gabrielle's sense of deja vu. His next action ground it to powder.
</p>
<p>Mulder stomped away, threw himself down into the chair across from where Dana had passed out and quite purposefully kicked the table. The redhead jerked upright with a squeak of panic at the strange surroundings and violence of her awakening.
</p>
<p>"William? What's going on?" Dana blinked, trying to catch her bearings.
</p>
<p>"Absolutely, piss all, nothing...as if you'd know, having slept the afternoon away." Mulder's voice was savage. "It's your fault we have to stop for the night. I knew you'd slow us down."
</p>
<p>Still half-asleep and feeling quite wretched, Dana Katherine Scully wasn't about to take that kind of abuse from any man, no matter how rich and handsome he was. "You are such a self-centred ass." Dana's nose wrinkled. "It makes my head hurt to listen to you."
</p>
<p>Gabrielle had to reach up and smother the cheer of encouragement that the scene being played out provoked from her. "That's the way, Dana. Stand up to him and demand some respect."
</p>
<p>"Pardon?" Fox sat up straight.
</p>
<p>"Holy Mary, my neck is sore." Dana wiped more of the sleep out of her eyes, stretching in her chair. She noticed William's shocked expression and her cheeks flamed bright red. "William! I'm sorry. I'm just out of sorts." She verbally  back-pedalled.
</p>
<p>"No Dana!" Gabrielle protested internally. "Showing weakness just makes him more aggressive." The girl definitely needed lessons in Fox-handling.
</p>
<p>Sure enough, Mulder's sneer returned at the symbolic baring of his fiancee's throat. "Thanks to you we have to stay the night here." He repeated.
</p>
<p>Gabrielle waded into the fray. "It's not just Dana. We all need a good night's sleep." The blonde settled into the empty chair nearest to Dana. "And hot food." She had already told the innkeeper to bring out two more meals as soon as Mulder returned.
</p>
<p>The food was consumed in relative silence. Fox picked at the plate set before him while Dana ate every scrap and wiped up the leavings with a hunk of bread.
</p>
<p>"I got rooms." Gabrielle told Dana when her consumption slowed down. "We're closer than I expected. We can afford the time."
</p>
<p>Although she didn't say anything aloud, the relief was clear in Dana's bright eyes. A two-hour nap on the table had taken the painful edge off her exhaustion but a good night's rest would help her to keep up tomorrow.
</p>
<p>Gabrielle climbed to her feet and set to gathering up her share of the gear. "You're not eating Fox...you're playing. How about we all pack it in so we can get out just past dawn?" She suggested.
</p>
<p>"Yeah. Whatever." Mulder's actions were growing more sluggish every minute. He climbed to his feet, hitched his pack into place, and picked up the lamp off their table. A sullen frown was on his face.
</p>
<p>Dana copied the loading, taking a lamp from the bar to light the girl's bedroom.
</p>
<p>The three of them headed to the stairs, Mulder in the lead and Gabrielle last. Fox grumbled to himself as he walked. When he stumbled partway up Dana reached out to steady her future husband.
</p>
<p>Mulder's shoulder shrugged off the fingers. "Leave me be. You're the reason we have to move so slow." He grumped.
</p>
<p>"We're all weary William." The young Irish woman replied.
</p>
<p>He turned on the step, between his already considerable height and the rise he was a towering figure. "And stop calling me William, god damn it!" His one free hand lifted.  "You're not my mother."
</p>
<p>It could be that he would have aborted the shove but Gabrielle wasn't taking any chances, considering the man's foul mood. Her staff shot past Dana to stop just short of breaking his nose. "Fox." The bard's tone was calm and firm. "I know you're worn out and not thinking straight." She shifted the tip of her staff to knock lightly against his still-raised arm. "But if you ever hit Dana I will hurt you worse than you've ever been hurt before."
</p>
<p>"Not bloody likely." Mulder countered, but his gravely whisper conveyed sadness rather than challenge. "I've been worked over by experts. Nobody could do me much worse." With a brief roll of his shoulders Fox's stiff posture collapsed in on itself. "I'm sorry Gabrielle." He turned away and climbed the rest of the steps alone.
</p>
<p>"You okay, Dana?" Gabrielle asked when the other didn't move right away. She noticed how dejected the Irish woman looked. What was Fox thinking? His apology should have been given to the person he'd actually offended. He needs to see her as something other than a useless tagalong. "I know it even took you a while to believe that about me, my love.."
</p>
<p>"Aye." The redhead mounted the stairs slowly, her lamp held high. "Somebody hurt him badly, I'm guessing." She said softly. "I've seen men like that back home...who hit first, then regret it. They usually learned it as kids." They reached the landing in time to hear him fall heavily onto a creaking bed. "Don't you think so?" 
</p>
<p>"My father..." Gabrielle began, then thought better of it. "You're right. Someone hurt him." She opened the door to their room and glanced inside. It wasn't fancy but it was clean. Gabrielle entered first, looking about to settle her mind that all was as it should be before she crooked her fingers, bringing Dana in behind her. As the bard had requested earlier, several pitchers of water, a couple of basins and fresh towels were waiting. She had ordered the same for Fox but it didn't sound as if he had bothered to clean up. At this point the man was probably asleep already. He had looked at his rope's end.
</p>
<p>Gabrielle spared only a quick look to make sure Dana had locked the door before stripping down. There was no way she was going to bed with grit stuck to her skin.
</p>
<p>While the blonde cleaned up, Dana dug into her own pack for a fresh shirt she could sleep in. The one she had on could stand a rinse and it should be dry by morning. "Are you going to join the Warrior Princess' fight against the French, Gabrielle? Or are you here to make new tales of the war?"
</p>
<p>"I'm here for Xena." A damp washcloth smoothed over skin. It felt good. "The war isn't any of my concern, my friend is." Gabrielle dipped into the water again. "I need to make her realise what the constant hating and fighting is doing to her...and that she should stop."
</p>
<p>"Very few people enjoy war." Dana sat on the edge of the bed. The lamp on the nightstand threw half her face into stark shadow. Those were strange sentiments considering the woman before her was definitely a fighter as well as a bard. A finely toned body like that didn't come from taking bows and walking the roads...no matter how long the marches were. Gabrielle obviously knew how to handle herself in a scrap. The incident on the stairs was proof of that. Dana hiked her heels up onto the bed and wrapped her arms around her legs. Her attention, caught by the action of the washcloth, eagerly followed the curve of a pert breast. The Irish woman squeezed her legs tight against the hot flush that the sight was provoking in her and concentrated on what she had been saying. It was neither the time nor place for thoughts like those. "If honourable people don't offer defence then the true villains will take control."
</p>
<p>"I understand the need to fight, but even honourable people...especially honourable people...need to stand back and examine their motives periodically or they risk loosing themselves. Possibly to what they are fighting against."
</p>
<p>"And if Xena decides to keep fighting will you stay or go?" Dana asked. She attempted to stifle her physical reaction to the beautiful blonde by trying to concentrate on more intellectual questions. The motion of the sopping cloth hesitated over Gabrielle's flat stomach causing Dana's chest to tighten. Her fingers clenched in the blanket she sat on. 
</p>
<p>"I don't know. But I'm sure I can get her to change her motivation. This needs to be about the greater good, not Xena's need for vengeance. I can make her understand that."
</p>
<p>"How?" 
</p>
<p>"Because I've done it before." The bard responded.
</p>
<p>"And she'll stop just because you say she should?"
</p>
<p>Gabrielle paused to look over at her companion, surprised by Dana's flushed cheeks and contrary stance. "Because it's the right thing to do." She resumed scrubbing up.
</p>
<p>"So you say." The young woman repeated. "If you ask the Spanish civilians whether they care WHY La Princesa Guerrera is fighting you might be surprised at the answer. I don't know much about the whys and wherefores of this campaign but a lot of good men stand on the English side of it and I doubt they're doing this for fun." 
</p>
<p>"There's just as many good men on the French side who think they're doing the right thing. They're not all monsters. That's why it comes down to motivations. Too many are in this conflict simply for land and property. No one is protecting the people caught in the middle. That's what Xena was doing at the start, when I first met her. I can live with the situation...IF that's her reason."
</p>
<p>"Why should it matter what the players motivations are as long as the end result is that the common people are taken care of...as long as someone is fighting for them?" Dana noticed the intense green stare she was receiving and her face dropped into shadow. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you angry." 
</p>
<p>"I'm not angry." Gabrielle carefully rinsed off the soap from her arms and chest. "Well, not entirely." "I'm just curious as to why you'll question me over something you don't have much knowledge of but you let Fox trample over you with every sentence." The bard slipped out of her underwear, tossed them into one of the basins and set to cleaning between her legs. 
</p>
<p>Dana's breath caught in her throat. It had been too long since she'd taken comfort in another body and between Gabrielle's unconsciously arousing display and handsome William's occasional presence that fact was fast becoming painful. The Irish woman forced herself to look away, glancing at the thin wall that separated them from her fiancee. She wondered if he could hear them.
</p>
<p>"He's already unconscious, I suspect." Gabrielle presumed she knew Dana's thoughts from her guilty expression. "You need to know..." The older girl began. "Fox is never going to be happy with this docile façade you've shown him and you're going to be miserable...having to live like that." It was so much easier dealing with Fox and Dana's problems than thinking about the doubts that the other woman had raised. "You stood up for yourself at the start. You're being here with us is proof of that." Gabrielle reminded. "If you want his attention...his respect..." She ran the washcloth between her toes. "You've got to earn it. Stand up to him, Dana, or he's going to keep bullying you." Water slopped on the floor. "His contempt...it's a short step away from abuse. We saw that on the stairs. The man needs someone just as strong as him...if not stronger."
</p>
<p>"Look at me." Dana held out fragile hands. "I can't Gabrielle. He's twice my size and a trained soldier."
</p>
<p>"I don't mean it like that." The blonde wrung out her wet underwear. "You've got a stubborn streak, Dana. I'll bet you've a temper to match it. If he whines, tell him he's being childish. If he shouts, yell back. And by the Gods, if he's making a mistake or acting unreasonably, call him on it. Put your opinion out there. You don't have to take that kind of crap from him and I'm sure he doesn't want a woman who would."
</p>
<p>Dana stared at the nude woman, trying to order her thoughts. "You sound so certain."
</p>
<p>"Yeah, well..." Gabrielle hooked her underwear over the post at the foot of the bed to dry then dug out her least soiled shirt. "When I first got together with my partner I just followed. I didn't pick the path we took or what we did...and I ended up resentful of my lack of control in our lives." She pulled the white shirt over her head but didn't bother to lace up the front. "That was partly my fault...I let it happen. Things got really bad before we came to an understanding and I became a equal partner instead of just a friend and eventually...a lover." A smile curved Gabrielle's pink lips. "That's what Fox wants, and I think you do too."
</p>
<p>Dana couldn't help but notice that the blonde's damp nipples were clearly outlined through the thin fabric. "Where is your man now, Gabrielle?" The question was hesitant.
</p>
<p>"Not too far away." The bard crawled under the covers on the far side from where Dana was sitting. "I'm absolutely drained. Lower the wick on the lamp before you turn in, please and thank you, but don't put it out. We may need the light...and Dana..."
</p>
<p>"Yes?"
</p>
<p>"I never said my lover was a man."
</p>
<p>The fair hair hit the pillow and didn't move again all the time that Dana sat there trying to decide if she'd heard what she thought she'd heard and how it changed things.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>SKINNER:   "I was hoping you could give me some insight into Agent Mulder's recent behaviour." 
<br/>The snow dragged at his legs, making it hard to walk, not that he was in the best of shape right now, anyway. His extremities were leaden noodles from the day's 'training'. Standing at perfect attention for two hours with that wretched military stock about his throat, in the bitter cold of the courtyard, was murderous. He hadn't been able to suppress his shivers, thereby earning himself punishment for moving. His ribs were sore from repeated thumps from the butt of his teacher's wand, which reminded William more of horsewhip than a pointer. The sweat stained, old drunk was taking out the frustrations of winter confinement on his student's clumsy, half-grown body. Between the gnarled ex-Major's roughly inflicted 'lessons' and Father's angry attack yesterday, William was a mass of aches and bruises.
</p>
<p>Watching his feet and squinting against the icy wind, he wasn't paying attention to where he was going. The path was familiar enough that the hulking obstacle William bounced off of took him by complete surprise. He ended up on his sore arse in a foot of crusty snow.
</p>
<p>A man, a heavily muscled mountain of a man in rough fur and leather, stared down at the gangly teenage boy sprawled at his boots. William crab-scrambled backwards in fright before the face could be extracted from his near perfect memory. He was a trapper that had been hanging about the neighbour's place since Fall, one of pretty Sharon's many suitors.
</p>
<p>"The other one...he looks worse, right?" Skinner lifted the boy to his feet without effort.
</p>
<p>"What?"
</p>
<p>A surprisingly gentle fingertip indicated Mulder's blackened eye and purpled cheek and jaw. How could the man go without mittens in this weather? William flinched away from the contact. "Don't touch me!" He turned his back on the sympathy.
</p>
<p>The change in direction brought William to a confusing view of the pot-bellied stove and rough wood wall inside Skinner's home. The howl of the wind had vanished, as had his heavy coat and the watery light of the sun. Instead William could hear the drip of melting ice outside and the scent of Skinner's maple syrup baked beans was strong in his nose.
</p>
<p>"Sit. Brace yourself." The older man ordered. "Ready?" Large hands settled at William's shoulder and popped a dislocated shoulder back into place. God. It got easier every time to shift it back in.
</p>
<p>William's scream was still embarrassingly high and shrill.
</p>
<p>"I know...I know..." Skinner offered up a battered metal flask. The big man's brown eyes were flat in the low light of the cabin. "Which of them was it this time? Your teacher or your Papa?"
</p>
<p>"The Major wouldn't dare. He never leaves evidence...not that Father would be able to see right off." William wiped away tears with the back of his hand, ignoring the offered alcohol as he almost always did. "The new baby cried all night..." What was Mother thinking, still trying to have children this late in life.. "Father didn't get any sleep. He sat downstairs." "Drinking."
</p>
<p>Skinner rumbled and tucked the flask away. "That's no excuse Kid."
</p>
<p>They were outside again. How many days later was this? They stood beside the lake, studying the surface for change. His shoulder still hurt but now his nose throbbed painfully too.
</p>
<p>"You don't have to take this crap." Skinner looked too old, more like he had appeared the last few times they'd been together. The town behind him wasn't put together properly either. Not too far off he could see the completed spire of what must be the new church, but it still hadn't been finished before he left for France. In another direction the Byers family was in the middle of building their place, however that had been the year William was only ten. He could almost hear the workman shouting. None of this made any sense. It was too early in the year for construction. If the ice was still on the lake then how come a group of children were stringing daisy chains just up the slope from them? Damn this was a muddled mess. 
</p>
<p>"First of all...I want you to start ditching that old bastard who calls himself a teacher." Skinner continued, oblivious to his young friend's distress. "As soon as the ice breaks me and Frohike are out of here." 
</p>
<p>"NO!" The teenager's wailed. "Don't leave me." But Skinner didn't seem to even notice the panicked outburst.
</p>
<p>"You're coming with us Kid. I'll clear it with that Father of yours somehow. Trust me. It's time you learned about life outside that hell you live in. I think you've a lot to learn from Frohike...and maybe I can teach you a thing or two. It'll be bloody hard work and the men might rag at you some, but then home isn't any better."
</p>
<p>"Mother needs me." It was a token objection. Mother had little interest in him since passed the stage curling up on her lap to fall asleep. Mother loved babies and small children. That's probably why she persisted in bringing more poor little souls into their family despite the inevitable results.
</p>
<p>"WILS!" Samantha appeared as if conjured, lisping around her two missing front teeth as she ran and threw herself into his arms. 
</p>
<p>The force knocked him backward into the polished wood framing the inside of their front door. Lord she was getting heavy. He grinned and squeezed her tight. Sam had made it to seven years old, which was a good sign it was safe to love her. None of the others had ever got past five. There was a real chance she might be a survivor, like him.
</p>
<p>"Whacha bring me this time?" Little fingers tugged at his soiled rucksack.
</p>
<p>Father appeared in the high gilded archway to their right and glared at the unseemly noise from his daughter... and his son's scruffy state. Samantha wilted. A flick of her father's grim visage had her retreating to the kitchen. "You're back again." William Senior sneered but the ever-present cigarette in the corner of his mouth barely moved. The expression simply cut the seams in his face even deeper than usual. "For how long this time?"
</p>
<p>"Just for a little while, Sir." Fox replied. Fox now, not William, not Kid. "I can stay at the inn if you'd prefer or with Jan's family." There was always room for one more at the Byers dinner table and Mr. Byers was a jolly soul to be around. He was one of the few folks hereabouts that Father didn't own.
</p>
<p>The old man stalked him, edging closer with short predatory movements. "You think you're so smart. You think you've outgrown us." A finger poked out, stabbing into a suddenly narrower chest. Mulder's buckskins expanded to hang off him like a child's dress up costume. Father menaced him. "It doesn't work that way, Boy. I created you. You're nothing but a shadow of me."
</p>
<p>"That's not true." He protested. Father had never actually said that, had he?
</p>
<p>"Don't you ever back talk me." William Senior lifted his son by the collar and slammed him several times into the heavy entrance door. "I say what you learn, what you do, and who you do it with."
</p>
<p>"Now that didn't work out quite the way he'd planned." An amused laugh bubbled up nearby. "Do you want to tell him what we did Foxy..." Alex Krycek sat cross-legged on the floor gazing up at the frozen scene. "...or should I?"
</p>
<p>"Alex how could you?" Mulder struggled, his feet dangled above the tile floor. "I thought we connected. You listened to me."
</p>
<p>"Of course I listened to you, moi Lista. That's my job." Alex smiled indulgently. "You don't think anyone would bother to pay any attention to you unless they had to? Buy yourself a clue, Liubovnik."
</p>
<p>"Actually..." Skinner lounged against the polished banister of the stairs. "I should find J an. It's really his place to break the news. He was your first guy, wasn't he Kid? Your Papa's gonna love hearing about that. Last I heard he was down in New York. Oh, but then he's not likely to come rushing eagerly to your side is he? Considering you smacked him around pretty badly over that argument about Eyota." 
</p>
<p>That couldn't be right. His big fight with Jan wasn't until they were both twenty-six. That was years away, wasn't it? "I said I was sorry." Fox hadn't meant to hurt Jan as badly as he did, he was just trying to...
</p>
<p>"Establish dominance." A strangely dressed figure stepped out of the shadows near the stairway. The face was frighteningly surreal with a sharp, hooked raptor's beak and a high crown of bright feathers. A shapely arm lifted and pushed back the elaborate hawk headdress and mask combination revealing Gabrielle's beautiful face and a hint of golden hair. It made a kind of twisted sense that the woman wore some kind of bizarre native costume; a reddish brown leather halter, short skirt and gauntlets, a crudely-made necklace and feathered straps on her upper arms. She paced a few steps closer then halted and firmly planted her staff at her side. Her chin lifted, a haughty, regal movement. "Well you did that. Poor, town-raised Jan didn't stand a chance against you thanks to Skinner's training." Gabrielle finished the thought. She glared with cold green eyes. "Just like Father dearest taught you to do." 
</p>
<p>Skinner actually looked pleased at the compliment to his teachings. That was definitely wrong. Skinner had been absolutely furious when he'd found out about the incident.
</p>
<p>"You're supposed to be a Fox, not a wolf. You're supposed to be smarter than this." Gabrielle criticised. "I was just starting to like you too. It's a pity that you turned out to be such a bully."
</p>
<p>"I'm not surprised. Not that I minded, Liubovnik, but you weren't exactly all kisses and soft touches with me and that was even before you knew the score." Alex climbed slowly to his feet, took two steps backwards and ran a speculative gaze up and down the tableau at the doorway. He squinted. A hint of a smile quirked the corner of his mouth. "Toshe ty bien, toverish." Alex turned away, walking towards the kitchen and exiting through the narrow doorway.
</p>
<p>"If you're all through?" Father grouched at the delay. "I'd like to finish strangling the little bastard now."
</p>
<p>"Be my guest. He's just an ass. Dana is better company anyway." Gabrielle shook her head sadly then withdrew back into the shadows she had emerged from.
</p>
<p>The fingers around his throat tightened. "Skinner! Help me." Mulder pleaded.
</p>
<p>"Sooner or later you have to take responsibility for your own actions, Kid." The balding man admonished. "I taught you everything you need to get past letting your Papa rule you. It's time to be your own man, not the person he or anyone else wants you to be. Grow up, Fox."
</p>
<hr/>
<p>His arms flailed wildly, protesting the lack of oxygen in his chest. One fist thumped with a meaty smack and the target swore... in Spanish. Fox thrashed on the bed, shoving one set of restraining hands away and swallowing a gulp of air but another body landed on him. He roared in fury, kicking out with still booted feet at the Spanish cutthroats attacking him.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <a id="notes" name="notes"></a>
</p>
<table> <tbody>
<tr><td> 
April 1999
<br/>THE FULL DISCLAIMER LIST IS AT THE BEGINNING OF CHAPTER I. Please go and check out all the warnings if you're a sensitive reader
<br/>Ownership: The characters from Xena: Warrior Princess, the X-files and Sharpe are not ours. We're making no profit.
<br/>Violence, language and sexual content: a strong PG ...this contains f/f, f/m, and m/m sexual relationships.
<br/>If any of this offends you, or you are underage, or it's illegal where you live...please, stop reading now.
<br/>Feedback: We're always up for acknowledgement that someone's out there and pleased... and we'll try to accept creative criticism with dignity. Send it to
[email removed]  Please and thank you.
<br/>Other websites—[broken link removed] 
</td></tr>
</tbody>
</table>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Our story is set during the Napoleonic wars as illustrated by Bernard Cornwell in his series of 'Sharpe' books and the subsequent TV movies. As our tale begins the British forces are pushing the French out of Spain. Richard Sharpe is now a Major and has been recently widowed. Xena, because of the ambrosia she consumed (Episode: The Quest), is immortal and has been travelling the world for two thousand years since the death of her soulmate, Gabrielle.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/><b>La Princesa Guerrera IV<br/>by Carla Jane and Jim</b>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <i>SCULLY: "I was just thinking about something that a man said to me. That the dead speak to us from beyond the grave, that that what's conscience is."
</i>
</p>
<p>Xena never made too much noise in her sleep. That would be dangerous... an invitation to attack. Even the most vivid dreams caused little beyond tiny noises and subtle physical reactions. Tonight was one of those kinds of dreams. Small mercy that she had found an abandoned shack to spend the late afternoon and early evening in. The four walls helped protect her and her horse from possible observation. It also ensured that the only audience to Xena's current state was that same animal.
</p>
<p>The armour-like stiffened leather vest that she had taken to wearing was at it's most constricting. Xena's blunt-nailed fingers had clawed absently at the dark shirt she wore underneath, dragging open the ties at her throat to expose her neck and upper breasts to the cooling night air but the complicated lacings of the vest were beyond the dexterity of her unconscious mind. Sweat beaded up on her skin only to be smeared as she tossed her head and swiped at her face with restless arms. From the very back of her throat came faint whimpers of need and arousal. The name of her long departed lover formed over and over again on lips that had been swollen from biting, but Gabrielle's name was never spoken aloud. Suede covered hips shifted restlessly and long legs parted in invitation. The tip of Xena's tongue emerged to curl up, dampening her upper lip. A rhythm began in the slight hip thrusts her lower body was making. Black eyebrows drew together and Xena's spine started to arch.
</p>
<p>Just as her breath suggested that something momentous was about to occur Xena began to flail wildly, reaching to catch hold of something that was fast slipping away from her. A muted groan of protest broke past the warrior's lips. Her fingers clenched uselessly on air. 
</p>
<p>"Don't." The denial was voiced quietly. Arousal turned easily into anger. The flush of colour on her cheeks and below her collar darkened yet again. Her leg muscles twitched with the threat of kicks and whirling attacks. Xena caught at her waist, seeking the chakram that she used to carry so long ago. Lips drew back in a threatening snarl.
</p>
<p>"Won't let you." The whispered declaration was barely audible. Xena's body twisted in the throes of a nightmare long enough to bath her entire body in sweat and hopelessly tangle her heavy hair with the tossing of her head. 
</p>
<p>She bolted upright, grabbing after the sword lying at her side. Xena had rolled into a defensive crouch before she was completely awake. Her naked blade swung menacingly, covering all approaches as she circled twice before deciding she was safe.
</p>
<p>An obscenity in a long unused language slipped out. Xena sat her sword down and scrubbed ruthlessly at her eyes and cheeks. Nightmares didn't normally plague her, at least not to the extent they had over the last couple of months. [I suppose my conscience has decided I'm too tough a case. Now it has to attack me in my sleep to make an impression.] The attempt at levity fell flat, being too close to the truth.
</p>
<p>What good was her conscience anyway? It was nothing more than a relic from times long past. She had learned over the years to ignore the nagging doubts while in the middle of a task... to bury them deep down where they couldn't bother her until the job at hand was tended to. She realised that she was out of practice. It had been a long time since her conscience had bothered her. 
</p>
<p>Her thoughts turned in remembrance to a time that she had very nearly slipped into the darkness that hovered constantly just at her shoulder. The situation wasn't so far removed from the one she found herself in right now. That war had been brought about by a difference in religions rather than the expanding of an empire but it could be all the more vicious because of the cause. Xena had always tried to stay out of religious wars. Men fighting with the belief that a God stood on their side were even more insane than soldiers fighting over property or land were. They reduced their opponents to something less than human simply because of a difference in belief. It seemed foolish considering what Xena, personally, knew of the Gods and their compassion for humankind. For hundreds of years waves of violence swept across Europe and crashed into the so-called 'Holy Land' without accomplishing anything of value. Xena had moved out of the line of destruction fairly early considering how long the debacle lasted. </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>It had been comfortable, returning to a place so near her original homeland after several lifetimes moving among the black-skinned tribes of Africa. Xena had enjoyed setting up a house and shop in the sleepy village. The language came back to her lips easily and the herbs she harvested to stock her shelves were as familiar as old friends were. The folk of the town had taken the stranger into their trust quickly. It was a good life and Xena wasn't yet near the end of her stay. Years had passed, yes, but three or four more were still possible when an outside force decided to interfere.
</p>
<p>Xena had closed up the shop and headed into the hills to replenish her stock. No babies were due. Everyone had been flush with good heath. It was an excellent time to go foraging... or so she had thought. The young apprentice she had taken on a year ago was far enough along in her training to handle things while she was away.
</p>
<p>The immortal returned five days later.
</p>
<p>The day was brilliant, sunny and bright with enough of a breeze coming as dusk approached to make for comfortable sleeping. A smile played across Xena's lips despite the stuffed pack weighing her shoulders down. It was good to be home. She was growing spoiled, missing her stuffed mattress and the comfort of soft soled slippers on her feet. One of the neighbours would certainly offer their returning herbalist fresh bread and a filling supper. Her mouth watered in anticipation of a hearty meal. With luck Tamia, the woman next door, would arrive at her door with a basket full of sweet rolls come the morning.
</p>
<p>The edge of town surprised her. Walls suddenly appeared before Xena expected them. Lamps should already be sending a warm glow out of the windows and into the gathering twilight to illuminate her path. Voices should have drifted to the immortal's ears on the freshening breeze. Instead that slight wind carried the scent of decay.
</p>
<p>Her body reacted instinctively. Centuries of experience kicked in less than a heartbeat later. Xena silently discarded her encumbering pack. Her belt knife slipped silently from its sheath and she pressed into the cold comfort of the nearest building. The wail of distress that tore at Xena's throat remained internal through force of will as her searching gaze picked out the first broken body. The only sounds that disturbed the still night were the harsh calls of carrion birds and a growling dispute between two dogs behind one of the small houses.
</p>
<p>The immortal ghosted forward, teeth clenched tight. The street was littered with the shells of Xena's friends and neighbours. Children she had brought into the world over the last seven years lay destroyed within arm's length of their parents and siblings. Most were hacked carelessly but near a few kicked in doors the bodies were neatly decapitated and in piles.
</p>
<p>Who would do such a thing? Who would destroy an entire town of people so indiscriminately? It was madness. Someone had to have survived the massacre, Xena told herself.
</p>
<p>She picked up her pace, almost running through the few short streets that made up her home. Days had passed since the carnage. The attackers must have come shortly after she had retreated into the wilderness. Animals, gone halfway wild with the sudden neglect, were the only living things that the immortal could find. It took until well past full dark to assure herself that none of the people responsible remained in the area.. One grave had been dug not too far from Xena's own shop. It was marked with a cross and some unfamiliar western European name was scratched into the wooden decoration. A rosary hung from the crossbar and wilted flowers were scattered about the mound. Xena recognised the luxurious blooms as the ones that Tamia's aunt had so carefully cultivated near her bedroom window.
</p>
<p>[Crusaders.] The immortal decided with a grimace. Usually those pompous fools kept more toward the sea as they crawled their way across the countryside. It must have been a large band scrounging for supplies and easy looting under the guise of purifying the natives. Xena had kept clear of the conflict so far. Wars fought in the name of Gods were insane, as were most of the people who participated in them. Zealots invariably forgot everything but the cause. Worse yet were the men on the fringe of the movement who mouthed all the same words but fought and killed for the sheer pleasure it brought them. Neither type could be turned by reason or common decency.
</p>
<p>A rush of anger made Xena kick out, destroying the cross in front of her before she regained control. The immortal turned and walked to the place she had happily called home for the last half-dozen years. Of course the entrance was torn open and the place was ransacked. Most of the stock was thrown to the floor, judged as worthless. Her personal possessions were in disarray. Almost everything of value had been taken, almost everything. Using her heavy belt knife, Xena knelt down near the overturned bed and began digging apart the smooth slats that made up the honey-coloured floor. When a good-sized square of dirt was revealed Xena changed tools. A small spade cut into the hard packed dirt with some effort. Eventually she completely unearthed the trunk she had buried too few years ago.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The warrior recalled that it had physically pained her to remove that chest from its hiding place. It had accompanied her for many years, travelling through numerous settlements, but Xena hadn't felt the need to open the crate for over a hundred years.
</p>
<p>Xena stood up, pinching the bridge of her nose. A flick of a hand opened one broken shutter. The Spanish night sky was a shock after so long a wander through her thoughts. [I lost it for a few hours that time, didn't I beloved.] She admitted. [I burned my home, tossing bodies on the flames like firewood. I burned my clothes. My hair even caught fire at one point. I remember having to hack it short to regain some semblance of humanity.] Xena leaned a moment, staring out at the darkness. </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>In the end all that remained was that box containing her weapons and armour. The herbalist disappeared in the flames to be reborn as the warrior once more.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Her horse whickered, reminding Xena of more mundane chores. She padded over to where the bag of grain had been set when she unpacked earlier. The immortal measured out a portion and gave it to the animal. </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>There had been no mount to help on that long ago mission of tracking down the Crusaders. It had taken a few days of hard travel to catch up... only to discover that the band was massive and well armed. She had to admit that the task of taking on forty-five trained soldiers and their many retainers would require some planning. It was frustrating because all she really wanted to do was charge them and start hacking. Unfortunately, a wounding would give them time to escape. So Xena lay in the itchy scrub and planned as the men went about setting up camp for the night. 
</p>
<p>Occasionally a woman's wail would cut through the gathering dusk but the warrior held back. Charging up now wouldn't accomplish anything. She watched them set up a rather haphazard line of security. Their arrogance brought a sneer to her lips. How dare they disregard the locals. She'd teach them some respect... then she'd kill them.
</p>
<p>Xena waited until the Crusader's camp settled, then she waited some more. After securing any bits of her light armour or weapons that might rattle and give her away the warrior crawled forward. She slipped through the sprawling encampment sizing up her opponents. Her knife was put to use subtly sabotaging pieces of tack and food containers as she moved. It took her some time to choose three of the most formidable members of the band. Xena committed a messy, obvious theft in each of their tents. She stole the most valuable bits of jewellery and loot that those particular men had collected. The immortal them stashed those same pieces into the baggage of one of slimiest looking of the marauders. A single trinket was dropped in plain sight near her pawn's tent wall.
</p>
<p>Her work done, Xena easily crept away to catch a few hours sleep before morning would put her back on the trail. 
</p>
<p>She wasn't close enough to be privy to the beginning of the accusations the next day but as night closed and camp was pitched once more the warrior snuck near enough to listen to the arguments. Factions were beginning to develop quite nicely.
</p>
<p>The Knights were slower to turn in this time and squires dozed across the doorways to most of the tents but it was no major hardship. Xena stepped carefully over the boy sprawled in her path and ducked under the line trap as she entered her chosen victim's tent. The Crusader's loot chest was no where in sight but that wasn't her target tonight. Silently, the immortal stole a fancy-handled knife from the stack of weapons near where the man slept then retreated. A selective angel of death, Xena flitted through the encampment, slitting the throats of the men she had stolen from the night before. At each deep slice a thick rush of satisfaction surged through her system. Revenge was an intoxicant that she hadn't tasted in decades. Xena couldn't believe that she had forgotten how fulfilling it could be.
</p>
<p>The cleaning of the knife she had used was purposefully careless. Bits of gore and a ribbon thin strand of collar fabric remained crusted about the ornate handle betraying it as the murder weapon.
</p>
<p>Satisfied with a good night's work, Xena withdrew from her hunting ground once more.
</p>
<p>It took only four days of shadowing the band before the immortal whittled away eight of the Knights. Xena, however, wasn't satisfied. Watching them hang one of their own and quickly picking off two stragglers didn't provide the visceral satisfaction that she was seeking. The warrior wanted to feel their terror. That's what it would take to soften the edges off the rage she felt at what they had done.
</p>
<p>On the fifth day Xena noticed that she wasn't the only one spying on the foreigners as they stopped for nightfall. A ragged group of what looked to be locals were massing to the south of the half-built camp. They may have been villagers with their own revenge in mind or bandits. Xena didn't care at this point. The prospect of a pitched battle made the blood sing in her veins. Pale blue eyes watched avidly as the newcomers crept ever closer to the Knights.
</p>
<p>The stars were full out in the sky and torches illuminated the area about the tents when the locals finally decided to make their move. Xena hadn't bothered to attempt contact knowing what most men around here thought of women, let alone women warriors, but she wasn't about to hold back and let them have all the fun either. They would quickly realise which side she was fighting on. 
</p>
<p>Just as the wave of attackers broke against the sentries surrounding the camp Xena tore out of the darkness from a different direction. A running leap took her over the heads of the outward facing guards and her sword began drinking its fill. A few torches tipped setting the thin fabric of the tents on fire and throwing a ghastly orange glow over the fragmented battleground. Screams, both male and female, shattered the air. Horses fought the pickets that held them, attempting to flee the sudden clashing of metal and flesh, to no avail.
</p>
<p>There was an art to puncturing the armour shells of the Knights, Xena knew. Her sword had to almost dance, stabbing through breaks in the metal protections. The easiest way to dispatch the bastards, since most had removed their helmets as the sat down to rest, was a quick decapitation. Luckily Xena's height, long sword and arm strength made that a feasible attack method. Her body dropped easily into the mindless slaughter. Muscles remembered the actions gleefully, killing one opponent after another without pause.
</p>
<p>It was hard to pinpoint exactly what pierced through her battle haze. Maybe it was the screams of women or simply the lack of armoured foes... but a moment of stillness finally gripped Xena, allowing her pause to look around at the devastation she was the centre of.
</p>
<p>The men she had followed in were still at the task. Some were tearing down the last few Crusaders, attacking them like pack dogs. Others were claiming horses or dragging the Knight's loot out of flaming tents and happily breaking open chests. The rest were completing a task that made Xena's stomach clench. The Knight's female prisoners and servants were being slaughtered with swift and brutal efficiency.
</p>
<p>One of the squires, a blonde boy in roughly fitted homespun, was attempting to wield a sword almost as large as himself defending a pair of wildly dancing horses. Between the boy's stance and the determined look on his face Xena couldn't help but be reminded of her own son, Solon, when he was about this boy's age. {Enough!} The immortal hurled forward to intervene between the young squire and the man attempting to murder the boy. Their swords crashed against one another with a ringing clang. 
</p>
<p>The attacker stepped back with a frustrated snarl. "Out of the way, woman." The local ordered.
</p>
<p>"He's just a child."
</p>
<p>"Who will grow up to be a murderer... just like those." A red-stained hand waved negligently at the mangled swath that Xena had cut through the Knights. "Move aside."
</p>
<p>"No." The immortal stood firm. 
</p>
<p>The man turned as if to leave, then spun quickly on one foot bringing his sword in a low, easy arc meant to disarm his opponent. Xena effortlessly deflected the man's attack and continuing the motion brought her hilt into the man's face sending him sprawling. The scuffle had attracted the man's companions and upon seeing him fall before the woman a few laughed and a few took offence. Xena moved to intercept those coming towards her. 
</p>
<p>The foreign boy backed up a bit into the shelter of the horses. He had seen the dark-haired woman slashing her way through the group of Knights that his master travelled with. Despite being female, she was obviously very skilled with a sword. He had watched as the bloody blur of her blade tore into joints and small openings in the Knights' armour. Strangely enough she now seemed intent on defending him from what he thought were her allies. However her pattern of attack was completely different with the raggedly dressed men. The hilt of her sword struck out rather than the tip and her elbows and legs lashed out. Punches and kicks knocked the men away but the boy didn't see any bodies split open this time. The ferocious woman was the centre of a whirlwind, tossing away any attempt the bandits made to approach. One tall assailant received a brutal head butt to the nose when he closed in too tight, causing a rush of blood. The defensive skirmish provoked groans of pain and a few sounds that indicated breaking bones but no death screams.
</p>
<p>"STAND AWAY!" Xena roared at the local men, not wanting this to turn into another bloodbath. 
</p>
<p>With snorts of disgust and grumbled curses the original man and all of his companions turned aside, no longer eager to tangle with the blood drenched stranger after observing her in action. Unfortunately the minor confrontation had lasted long enough that all the other non-combatants had been killed while Xena was defending the boy.
</p>
<p>Even at the height of her worst excesses, before Gabrielle's soothing influence, Xena had never killed women and children. The bodies scattered about her now were no different from the friends she had been attempting to avenge. Some of the women had been captives taken from villages just like her's only to be judged tainted by the attackers because the pale foreigners had used them. A couple of the boys looked to be no more than seven or eight years old. 
</p>
<p>Suddenly sickened, Xena felt little beyond the need to distance herself from the scene she had helped to create. The squabbling over loot that intruded on her ears disgusted her. Still wary of the men milling about the destroyed encampment the warrior spared a little attention for the lone survivor of the massacre she had assisted in. Walking away from the boy would mean his death.
</p>
<p>He was about eleven or twelve she guessed with milky skin and sunshine gold hair that would mark him as an outsider in most of the surrounding countries. Pale coloured eyes stared up at her, wide with fear, but still he attempted to wield his oversized sword.
</p>
<p>{What language do you speak, boy?} She began with English. Several western tongues had been evident when Xena had been observing the Knights. {Latin? French? Spanish?}
</p>
<p>{French.} He finally replied in his language of choice. {A little bit of Latin.} The boy elaborated, still in French.
</p>
<p>Her nod was a faint movement. {I'm not going to hurt you.} She began. {I'm probably the only one here who doesn't want to kill you... so I'd suggest that you lower your weapon, lad.}
</p>
<p>The tip of the blade dropped but it could have been fatigued arms as much as submitting to her request. 
</p>
<p>{We've got to get out of here.} Xena decided. She had no desire to spill yet more blood, even in defence. They had best be long gone before the arguing over spoils ended. She moved, reaching for the picketed reins of the horses that he had been protecting... only to notice the boy once more attempting to raise his weapon. {Forget it boy.} She sighed wearily. {It's not like your master needs these animals any more and we do.}
</p>
<p>{We?} Blonde brows shot up. {I'm not going anywhere with you, woman.} He appeared appalled at the suggestion. {You're a heathen, a killer. You stay away from me.} The boy warned.
</p>
<p>{Anytime now those men over there...} Xena indicated. {...are going to figure out they outnumber us forty to one and that there are some supplies on the back of one of those beasts you're guarding.} She batted the sword impatiently aside, pushing past him to free the animals' tethers and climb up onto the saddled horse. She seized the boy by the back of his shirt and dragged him up in front of her before heeling the animals into a burst of speed.</p>
<hr/>
<p>A lonely bird's call pulled Xena abruptly back to the present day. The boy, Armand, was long turned to dust, held close within the rich soil of Bordeaux. She knew that for a fact. After spending four years with the young man as her constant companion Xena couldn't resist keeping a casual eye on his progress. They had even exchanged intermittent letters after the immortal had no longer dared to show her unchanging face to her former charge.
</p>
<p>Xena smiled. Her last sight of the man had been from a distance during a festival. A throng of grandchildren had been clustered about Armand. It was a rather considerable change from the pitiful boy she had saved or even the intense scholar that he had become after she turned him over to that monastery in southern France. 
</p>
<p>That line of thought brought a considering frown to her face. Xena wondered if any of Armand's descendants were participating in this mess. She had lost most of her interest in the line that resulted from Armand's marriage shortly after her friend had died. Noticing only they continued as highly respected vintners. The immortal hoped that Armand had managed to pass down some of the lessons that he had learned during his time with Xena.
</p>
<p>[What am I thinking?] She chastised herself. [Sometimes I have trouble recalling the lessons... and I was there, beloved.] The warrior set to gathering up her possessions. [I know what you're thinking... that I've gotten caught up in the same mindset again.] She mused internally. [But the rule is 'no women and children'. I'm simply putting a halt to the actions of those who have no sense of honour. War should be fought between soldiers.]
</p>
<p>That wasn't all she had tried to convey to Armand. The boy had been very naïve for a gutter-born orphan who had been dragged across Europe by a bunch of sword wielding bullies.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>Xena toyed briefly with the idea of leaving her young charge with a local family but the first time that they stopped in a village that idea was discarded. Not one person wanted anything to do with the spawn of 'those foreign devils'. Of course the boy's obvious contempt for the local 'heathens' didn't help the matter at all.
</p>
<p>They left that town quickly.
</p>
<p>On top of everything else Xena now had to concern herself with the provisioning and day to day needs of two people. In her revenge haze she hadn't thought beyond weapons and armour now her lack of foresight took it's toll. Small mercy that the knight's packhorse hadn't been unloaded when they took it but it's contents wouldn't support them for long. The obvious solution was to return to what remained of the village Xena had been calling home for so long. She may have destroyed all her own belongings but she didn't think her dead friends would begrudge her the aid she now required.
</p>
<p>Xena dismounted at the edge of town and checked to see all her weapons were ready for use. Scavengers were likely to have descended by now. She considered leaving the boy hidden but decided he was far safer at her side. "If you see anything moving tell me." Xena instructed her young charge. "Everyone who belonged here is dead."
</p>
<p>Wide eyes took in the scenery. "I've been here before." He admitted in a low tone.
</p>
<p>"I know." She looked for evidence of people about. "This is... was... my home. The Knights you were travelling with... they killed everyone."
</p>
<p>For a moment it looked as if he was going to attempt to justify the carnage but Xena's grim expression dissuaded him. Instead he sat quietly on the horse as Xena lead them into the centre of the ghost town. She levelled another of those intimidating stares at him, the one that made him want to fidget and protest, then her steps took on more purpose.
</p>
<p>"I know a house." Xena had reservations about taking clothes from the home of a teenage boy she had known to clothe someone who had aided his murderers, but the dead no longer needed possessions and they forgave more easily than the living. Getting the blonde out of his Crusader's livery was an immediate concern. She was almost disappointed that no scavengers lurked about so she could bleed off some of her anxiety with a fight. Instead she continued on, bowstring tight.
</p>
<p>"The bodies are gone." The boy observed quietly.
</p>
<p>"They were my friends. I burned them." She paused to consider the wide brownish stain near the door of the house they stood in front of. "Come inside with me." Xena looped the reins of their two horses about a nearby post. She pulled off the set of saddlebags that she had emptied after taking an inventory of everything the horses had been carrying.
</p>
<p>This house was a perfect choice. The dead boy's clothes were just a little larger than her charge would need and the father's gear would do Xena just fine.
</p>
<p>"What's wrong?" She had tossed his livery into the hearth before looking up to see the boy staring at her, shaking his head. "You didn't actually think we were going to keep those rags, did you?"
</p>
<p>His young brow was furrowed. "I worked hard to earn the right to wear those." He complained.
</p>
<p>"Look... " Xena  pinned him with an angry stare. "Your people have looted and killed their way across this country. If you were to wear those things... sooner or later someone would try to take retribution on you. As it is just looking at you is going to send some folks into a frenzy."
</p>
<p>"But I didn't do anything. I just cooked and cleaned." The boy protested. He was in a strange, hostile land with no grasp of the local language or how to get home and his only point of contact was a murderous infidel... a murderous FEMALE infidel. The precarious situation that he was in had grown more evident with every passing hour.
</p>
<p>"I never hurt anyone."
</p>
<p>"They don't see 'you'." She explained carefully. "They only see a marauding foreign devil."
</p>
<p>"But that's not fair!" The boy protested.
</p>
<p>"And this was?" Her temper sharpened and raised her tone. One gauntlet covered arm waved. "Do you think the boy whose clothes you're wearing did anyone harm. I know he didn't. He tended animals. He spent his days chasing after the goats that have been filling your belly for the last few days. The most harm he ever did was to squeeze one of the nanny goat's teats too tight when he was milking her. Do you think he deserves to be ashes on the wind while we take his clothes to keep you from being strung up by the next mob we chance across. Don't you dare complain about what's fair, boy."
</p>
<p>"I'm sorry your friend died" Was the low mumble. "But you don't understand. It's a holy war." He tried to explain
</p>
<p>"War is soldiers fighting soldiers. People who know the situation and accept the possibility of death battling against more of the same. This... what your Crusaders were doing is not war. What those other men were doing at your camp wasn't war either." She evened out her tone. "All of them were bandits and murderers getting their kicks by destroying innocents... making decisions on the value of another person's life because they follow a different set of beliefs. It's sickening."
</p>
<p>"But their beliefs... "
</p>
<p>"NO. We don't have time for this. Not here. Not now." She interrupted, snatching up some of the things piled in front of her. "We have to get out of here."
</p>
<p>The boy kept quiet, releasing that arguing with the warrior while they stood amid the ruins was futile. He would wait for a more appropriate time but they would have this out between them.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Xena sighed. That had been only the first of a long string of confrontations with Armand. Gods, the boy learned to love arguing and he had as quick a mind as she had ever run across. 
</p>
<p>The strange thing was that he actually fought back better as their points of view gradually converged. The years she spent with Armand were some of the most vocal she could recall. 
</p>
<p>His face wouldn't come clearly to mind save that halo of gold he called hair and a set of high sharp cheekbones, but some of their discussions, especially those from the beginning of their friendship, still flitted about in the back of her thoughts from time to time.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>Xena noticed him studying her, choosing his moment. The boy waited until the camp was completely set up and his stomach was full.
</p>
<p>"You fought right along side those men who attacked us." He finally spoke up in the silence after she packed away the plates.
</p>
<p>The warrior picked up a switch to poke at the low fire that stood between them. "I attacked fully grown, properly trained knights who could defend themselves." She responded finally. "The fact that you're still alive speaks for me."
</p>
<p>"But my friends are all gone." He complained with the kind of whine that only teenagers seemed to be capable of. 
</p>
<p>She didn't even have to say it. Simply by lifting her dark brows Xena caused the boy to blush and drop his eyes to the flames.
</p>
<p>"That's different." He found his voice with a nervous clearing of his throat. "Those people... that town... " He verbally stumbled, attempting to find his place. "My master was on an errand from God."
</p>
<p>Xena knew it was a mistake but his innocent arrogance choked a brittle snort of amusement out of her.
</p>
<p>"The Holy Land must be cleansed." In the face of her scorn the boy retreated to the pat answers he had been listening to since being drawn into the cause." The infidel can not be allowed control over the Holy Land. Christian knights are doing God's work." His chin jutted out.
</p>
<p>"I thought that was the duty of priests... God's work, I mean." She observed. "I don't suppose anyone tried simply converting the infidels." Her tone was sharper than the sword across her back. "But then robbing their dead bodies wouldn't be part of the package that way... so what good would it achieve?"
</p>
<p>"It's not like that."
</p>
<p>"But it should be so simple. You claim to have God on your side. Couldn't he just wave his celestial arms and clear the land if it bothered him so much?"
</p>
<p>"You're being ridiculous. God doesn't work that way?"
</p>
<p>Xena smiled. "How do you know, boy?" She countered with a certain amount of glee. "Because that's what you've been told since you were born." The warrior answered for him, leaving no chance for him to interrupt. "Well the people of this land were taught something not very different from the time of their first breath. Who are you to decide which way is right for someone else? Unless God himself steps down here and takes a hand in things it's just a matter of some human being deciding what 'he thinks' is more important than what another human being believes."
</p>
<p>The boy sat back on his heels at the sincerity he sensed in her argument. In his entire life he'd never heard a woman argue so vigorously about a 'principle' before. Some of what she had said made sense but still, he wasn't ready to give up the argument quite yet. "But how is your revenge different? It still sounds to me as if you are saying that your friends' lives were worth the deaths of all the men you killed... just because they were your friends. Shouldn't you have attempted to capture the Knights or chase them out of the country...  rather than simply killing them? Did you even consider any other way to stop them or was killing them just easier?"
</p>
<p>It was Xena's turn to sit back and stare. That sounded like something Gabrielle might have said. Now she not only had to contend with the effects of him looking like her long dead son but he also sounded suspiciously like her soulmate. The worst of it was that he actually had a valid point. Perhaps if she'd taken the time and thought things through there might have been another way to handle the bastards. She hadn't looked beyond the pure, emotional satisfaction of slicing her enemies to ribbons. Her first instinct upon discovering the massacre was to dig up her weapons and hunt down the offenders. Xena hadn't tried to combat the murderous urge. The warrior realised that all the years of believing that she had buried her murderous impulses with her weapons was nothing more than self-delusion. "You're making me repeat myself." Xena said in a level tone, not daring to betray to this child how much his words had bothered her. "My friends were unarmed bystanders. Those knights were trained killers who had already proven themselves butchers."</p>
<hr/>
<p>Xena was knocked out of the remembrance by a jolt of guilt. At that moment she couldn't help but parallel the situation she found herself in right now. Yes, she was fighting soldiers, men well able to stand up for themselves... but that wasn't always enough. Gabrielle had tried so hard to teach her that motivations mattered as much, if not more than actions. The bard had time and again reminded her soulmate that there was almost always another option if you looked hard enough for it. Xena in turn had tried to pass those lessons along to her young charge. She believed those lessons, yet here she was teetering so close to the brink of unthinking vengeance without even realising how near to falling she was.  
</p>
<p>[Gods!] The warrior dropped into a crouch, pressing her hands to her forehead. When had the situation escaped her so completely? It was time to take a few steps back and re-examine the circumstances she now found herself in. Word had come to her at the last place she stopped that Teresa's husband, Major Sharpe, was attempting to make contact. Tomorrow, Xena decided, tomorrow she was going to pass everything she knew about what the French were up to into English hands then back away. It could be that she would return to the fight but Xena needed to make that choice with a clear head and the only way to clear her head was put some distance between herself and the source of her anger.
</p>
<p>The warrior straightened up and set to the business of packing up camp once more.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>Sir Arthur Wellesley: "You've just done me a damn good turn, Sharpe. Now I'm going to do you a damn bad one." 
</p>
<p>Lord Wellington concluded his careful search of the maps and documents in the command tent. As far as he could tell no papers had disappeared with the spy impersonating Colonel Mulder. That situation had both an up and down side to it. Nothing too complex was likely to have been absorbed by the spy for the benefit of the French... but on the other hand, it gave them no clue as to exactly where Krycek had concentrated his efforts.
</p>
<p>The tent door flapped a warning before Hogan let himself into the lamp-lit confines. He dropped into a canvas chair that creaked ominously under his heavy frame. "I had a long chat with young Smithers." The spymaster exhaled loudly. "It seems that Krycek had a bit more leisure to study his way through your papers than we first suspected."
</p>
<p>Wellesley wearily raised his face and bestowed an annoyed frown on his friend. This situation continued to worsen at every corner. "How much more time?"
</p>
<p>"A couple of hours but it was in the middle of the night so he was hampered by a lack of light." Hogan leaned back, joining his hands across his stomach. "Lieutenant Smithers needs to be reassigned somewhere out of the way. Pity, the youngster was proving to be a rather effective aide in all other regards. Perhaps we could toss him off to General Burns since that Simpson fellow didn't work out."
</p>
<p>"Simply reassigned?" Wellesley snapped. "We should court-martial the little imbecile. I should never have accepted his service no matter who his father is. I can't abide fools or traitors."
</p>
<p>"More a fool than a traitor in this case." The spymaster corrected. "He's guilty of bad judgement, yes... but then I can't help but bear some responsibility for not finding the man out." His aggravation wasn't obvious in his voice but rather in his perturbed expression.
</p>
<p>"I think you've made a mistake in this situation, Michael. Perhaps it would be best to send an organised chase to find Krycek after all." The Commander of the forces mused aloud.
</p>
<p>"To be honest, I doubt anyone we have would be more effective than our new colonial officer in this circumstance. I consider myself a fair good judge of determination." He smiled. "Colonel Mulder won't be back until the Krycek situation is resolved." His laugh was low in his wide chest. "I enjoy baptising a new agent in a sink or swim situation. It's the best way to get the measure of a man. The only regret I do have is that he seems to have dragged Lord Thistlemoor's daughter along on his quest for some odd reason. Perhaps he's taken the girl as camouflage. It wasn't something I expected." Hogan poked about inside his jacket looking for his snuffbox. "Which I should take as a good sign actually. If the man can surprise me, he has the capacity to surprise the enemy."
</p>
<p>"Did you tell Mulder about ALL the details of the job we assigned the spy?" Wellington asked, leaning back to study the man across from him.
</p>
<p>The heavy head tilted. "I think I managed to convey everything we required although Miss Scully's presence made it a bit awkward. She was in a slight muddle and didn't quite catch all the things I confided in him. Mulder's expression was priceless... trying to decide if me giving him the mission outline meant that I wanted him to go... despite your orders." Hogan chuckled. "The thing that worries me is that Krycek may still be with Sharpe's lot when they run across the Princesa. We can be sure the mission will take on a twist or two if that's the case. I doubt a French spy will hold much affection for such a passionate Spanish partisan... one that's done what she's said to have done."
</p>
<p>"That would be a bother. I really would prefer to talk to the woman. Still... " Wellesley shrugged and began rolling up maps, preparing to lock them away for the night. He stopped in mid-motion and frowned once more. "Between Sharpe, the spy, Mulder and the Princesa... " He curled his upper lip. "That's too many volatile tempers mixing about uncertainly. I dislike it. It lacks organisation." The Lord considered before continuing. "I'm also a bit worried we've thrown Sharpe in over his head this time. It would be a real shame to loose the man on such unimportant side-trip as this."
</p>
<p>"Not to worry, Milord. I've got a very good feeling about the whole situation. Trust me. This is going to work out quite nicely. I'm sure of it."
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>MULDER: "But if a man's character is his fate, it's not a choice but a calling. Sometimes the weight of this burden causes us to falter. From the fragile fortress of our mind. Allowing the monster without to turn within.  We are left alone staring into the abyss. Into the laughing face of madness."
</p>
<p>He could have taken his boots off to run in the stream but that meant risking damage to his feet. So now he had to trudge along in sopping wet boots, trying his best not to leave a trail. [I hate my life.] Aleksandr grouched internally. " Mudilo... dolboy'eb... khueplet."  He whispered a curse at himself to punctuate every squishing step.
</p>
<p>A rustle of movement off to the side froze him in place. Alek had left behind all the weapons he had taken from Fox except for his belt knife. His left hand rested on that bulky hilt now, but with his right Aleksandr fished one of the small throwing daggers he favoured out of his boot. Dropping into a crouch brought his eyes level with the cause of his anxiety. A fat badger snuffled once then lumbered off.
</p>
<p>[I absolutely hate my life.] He snarled, setting off once more. If he thought for a moment that the nuns who ran the school his siblings were attending would actually protect the kids...he'd disappear. But Alek knew better. Ducos would pull Tatyana and Dimitri out of their haven and toss them to the wolves if something happened to Aleksandr.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>In the beginning the young man had mostly worked on the eastern front of Napoleon's campaign. He had thought that little could feel worse than being wielded as a weapon against his countrymen. He learned quickly.
</p>
<p>Ducos had used the same method Malais had instituted to go about the breaking of Aleksandr, only with more style and on a far grander scale. Each assignment was slightly more despicable than the one before it until one evening Alek came to the realisation that there was almost no act he hesitated to perform. 
</p>
<p>The exact moment of revelation was engraved in his memory and brought a threat of nausea to him whenever it impinged on his consciousness.
</p>
<p>Helena had the misfortune of having a rather plain face, a militarily important father, and a careless, social-centred aunt. All that and her painfully, shy disposition made Aleksandr's job easy. 
</p>
<p>The Aunt was forever throwing large parties whenever the Father wasn't around to put the brakes on. Yet another unfamiliar face in the crowd at one of the grand affairs didn't provoke any consternation. 
</p>
<p>Aleksandr was careful that he drew the notice of no one except his intended target, who stood quite alone near the wall of one of the largest, most crowded rooms. According to the information he was able to gather the daughter was the easiest way into the old man's private office. He just had to convince her to take him to it and unlock the door.
</p>
<p>Convincing the foolhardy teenager to slip away from the rest of the partygoers wasn't difficult. It was the work of little over two hours. A few lines of poetry, some intense allusions to love at first sight and the gentle brush of his fingertips up her bare arm had done the trick. Helena had soaked up handsome Aleksandr's attention with amazed pleasure. 
</p>
<p>"... somewhere private, I want to... talk to you... alone." Alek coaxed, whispering. Tossing a wary glance over at the nearby crowd, he caressed the inside of her wrist. "Dear lady."
</p>
<p>Helena shrugged against the tickle his breath provoked. "There are servants all over the place. Maybe we could go out into the garden?" That would provide a few barriers to casual viewer.
</p>
<p>"But covering up these exquisite shoulders with a shawl would break my heart." He protested. "There must be somewhere in the manor that no one but you can go, Helena... precious."
</p>
<p>"We shouldn't... "
</p>
<p>"I've something I want to ask you."  The web of deception expanded. "Something a man needs to ask a woman in privacy." 
</p>
<p>"What is it?"
</p>
<p>"I want to change your life, my dearest, link it to mine."  What more potent incitement could there be to a girl in her situation. "Please, somewhere private. The proposal I wish to make... please, darling." He chose his words carefully, tempting her further.
</p>
<p>Helena's breath caught. "Maybe Daddy's office. I know where he keeps the key...  and no one goes in there." Father wasn't expected to return for another two days.
</p>
<p>"Purr-fect... " His breath tickled her ear, earning another nervous giggle. She led the way through a curtained arch, down a hall, then up a narrow, hidden stairway. Every stray sound had them pushing into whatever shadow was nearest. In one of the shallow doorways Alek trailed a line of kisses down the curve of her pale throat. It was both a distraction and a precursor. 
</p>
<p>In an unlit section of hallway Helena reached down into a vase and removed a key. She looked both ways before unlocking the door. Her breath was coming in short pants. "In here." 
</p>
<p>Aleksandr crowded her inside, locking the heavy door behind them. 
</p>
<p>At the sound of the bolt sliding into place Helena blushed furiously and took a few steps to distance them. She twisted her fingers together in front of herself and walked over to the window. The curtains were barely parted, allowing in just enough moonlight to keep from bumping into the furniture. "You can see the rose gardens from this window." Helena looked out.
</p>
<p>Alek quietly withdrew a knife from where it was sheathed inside his belt. He snuggled himself up against the girl's back, his left arm circling around to hold her steady. Helena sighed and leaned into the embrace. A delighted noise escaped her. The razor edge of his knife was so sharp she didn't even realise at first it was cutting her. The slice traced a not so different path from his earlier kisses. 
</p>
<p>Helena shook him off with a violent shudder as the wash of hot blood registered. She barely had time to turn around before collapsing to floor. Shocked, accusing eyes stared up him. Her mouth opened but no sound emerged. One hand clutched at him briefly before going limp. 
</p>
<p>The spy gazed down at what he had just done. The girl's lifeless eyes continued to reproach him. Alek raised the bloody knife in surprise. When had he decided to slice rather than smash the hilt into the back of her skull? Admittedly, this was more convenient... he wouldn't have to worry about leaving a witness... 
</p>
<p>What was left of his conscience let out a thin wail of despair. [ Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! ] He'd just killed a sixteen-year-old girl for the sake of making his job a little easier.</p>
<hr/>
<p>After the killing Alek had spent an hour vomiting up what felt like everything he had ever eaten in his life. Still, he had pulled himself together like a good little operative and gone on to thoroughly ransack the father's office.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>Upon his return to Paris...Aleksandr threw the bundle of stolen documents at Ducos and ran all the way to the nun's school. He didn't dare tell his beloved sister exactly what he had done. So while Tatyana sat on the floor, tucked in the back corner of the tiniest chapel on the school grounds, her elder brother simply laid his head in her lap and cried.
</p>
<p>A hand about the size of cold, dead Helena's smoothed through his soft hair. Unfortunately Tatyana's attempts at comfort only caused more guilt to gnaw at his intestines.
</p>
<p>"My poor, sweet Sacha." She murmured. The familiarity of her gentle Russian almost filled an empty spot in his soul. "What have they done to you this time, my darling?"
</p>
<p>"I'm evil, Tati." Alek whispered into the coarse cloth of her skirt. "I've lost my soul."
</p>
<p>Tatyana bent over him in a protective curl. "Then stop, my love. You don't have to do what they want anymore." She kissed the tip of his ear. "They can't hurt Dima and I here in the convent."
</p>
<p>The foolish trust in that sentence stilled him. Aleksandr didn't want to rip that false sense of security away from his little sister. "Oh, Tati." He sat up to study her delicate face. It would be so much worse for her now than it would have been when they were first taken. Time was maturing her from a vaguely pretty child into something truly exquisite. Alek had taken great pains to make sure that Malais and Ducos didn't pay any attention to the teenage girl the few times that his carelessness had allowed their paths to cross over the last few years.
</p>
<p>"What is it, Sacha?" His young sister tipped her head to one side and long, ebony hair tumbled down in an unconsciously elegant movement.
</p>
<p>"You look just like Mama." He announced in breathless amazement. The back of his hand scrubbed the remains of his tears away.
</p>
<p>Her head shook in denial. The last time she'd had access to a mirror she'd been closer to the look of all the other kids in the family but for her black hair. "You're the only one who ever looked like Mama, Sacha-love. My face is too fat and I've got Papa's legs and shoulders."
</p>
<p>Aleksandr stood slowly, drawing his sister up with him by her elbows. "Look, my angel." The top of her head was now up to his chin. "See how tall you've grown." He gathered her into his arms, holding on desperately. "You're absolutely beautiful." The statement held more terror than any other emotion. "I'm afraid I might not be clever enough to protect you properly, Tati." 
</p>
<p>Tatyana clung, stroking his back to soothe the fear she sensed in him. "Hush, my darling, I trust you. You've taken care of us so far."
</p>
<p>One of the nuns had chosen that moment to come clucking into the tiny chapel. At the sight of the pose they had fallen into threats of eternal damnation as well as physical punishment bellowed out. Aleksandr had been promptly sent on his way with a whack on the back of his head. </p>
<hr/>
<p>[I hate my life.] His brain repeated yet again.
</p>
<p>His feet hurt, he wasn't anywhere near certain that he was going in the right direction, and returning to Paris meant he'd have to deal with Malais again. His last debriefing had taken place in the field and Ducos had sent him right back out. After this long an absence the Sergeant was sure to feel the need to re-establish his ownership.
</p>
<p>[You had a little fun at the expense of Fox and Sharpe...] Aleksandr reminded himself. [Now it's time to pay the bill.] He stopped to look up at the moon and stars, trying to find his bearings.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>"Pay attention!" Came the roar in French. Malais' bear-like swipe caught him off guard and suddenly the night sky didn't hold much interest. Alek gazed hopelessly at the butter-dull, flat-ended knife that Malais had handed him. Aleksandr was a quick study. Straddling the line between displaying his considerable skill with the blade and not fighting back too effectively wore at him more every time they practised. Sometimes it was just easier to annoy Malais and get to the beating promptly since he knew it was coming no matter how the mock battle ended. 
</p>
<p>"Now fight!" The Sergeant ordered.
</p>
<p>"Should I win or lose?" The younger man asked in a far too superior tone. "I could do either. You pick." Yes, there was the mad gleam in his handler's eyes. Alek dropped the useless knife and braced for the onslaught. Unfortunately it didn't come as quickly as usual.
</p>
<p>"You treacherous, little animal." Malais had hesitated long enough to notice the look of weary acceptance on his pet's face. "We should do something different tonight, I think." The Sergeant seized and twisted one of Aleksandr's wrists. "How does my whore feel about fire?" Francois dragged his prisoner over to the small campfire, then squatted to heat his own knife over the red coals.
</p>
<p>"Nyet!" Panic let the Russian word escape before he forced himself back to using French. "Major Ducos said no more marks." Alek reminded the angry man in a desperate tone, squirming frantically. "He said not to do anything that wouldn't heal quickly... I have to look nice for my next assignment."
</p>
<p>Malais' cursing nearly turned the air blue. Frustration was clearly illustrated on the roughly featured face. How could the Sergeant be expected to maintain discipline with the worm's siblings in Paris and the Russian secure in the knowledge that he was safe from too much damage? Aleksandr stopped fighting to escape and almost started to relax but then a look of pleasure erased Malais' confusion.
</p>
<p>"Well then, how about we get you all smooth and pretty for your next job?" The Sergeant suggested with a vicious grin. He tore Alek's thin shirt open, curled one of the sparse hairs on the young man's chest about his finger, and yanked.
</p>
<p>The Russian let out a brief squeak of surprise at the pinprick of pain.
</p>
<p>"Not so much here to remove." Malais observed. "But then we know where there's a whole bush you could stand to lose, don't we, Field mouse?} Malais' smile was a study a cruel satisfaction.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Aleksandr turned in what seemed to be a more easterly direction. If what Sharpe's informant had told them was accurate, he should be able to find the French column by dawn. 
</p>
<p>It was a relief not to have to keep up his Mulder impersonation any longer. [Small mercies.] Alek mused. [Any satisfaction I have is made up of small mercies.] He kicked a tree root as he passed it. [God, I hate my life.]
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <a id="notes" name="notes"></a>
</p>
<table> <tbody>
<tr><td> 
July 1999
<br/>THE FULL DISCLAIMER LIST IS AT THE BEGINNING OF CHAPTER I. Please go and check out all the warnings if you're a sensitive reader
<br/>Ownership: The characters from Xena: Warrior Princess, the X-files and Sharpe are not ours. We're making no profit.
<br/>Violence, language and sexual content: a strong PG ... this contains f/f, f/m, and m/m sexual relationships.
<br/>If any of this offends you, or you are underage, or it's illegal where you live... please, stop reading now.
<br/>Feedback: We'd really like to know if anyone is reading this besides the three people who sent us notes. This is a first time effort for us and we could use as much feedback as possible, good or bad. Send it to [email removed]  Please and thank you. 
<br/>Other websites—[broken link removed] 
</td></tr>
</tbody>
</table>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Our story is set during the Napoleonic wars as illustrated by Bernard Cornwell in his series of 'Sharpe' books and the subsequent TV movies. As our tale begins the British forces are pushing the French out of Spain. Richard Sharpe is now a Major and has been recently widowed. Xena, because of the ambrosia she consumed (Episode: The Quest), is immortal and has been travelling the world for two thousand years since the death of her soulmate, Gabrielle.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/><b>La Princesa Guerrera V<br/>by Carla Jane and Jim</b>
</p>
<p><br/><br/>
<i>GABRIELLE: "Believe me, if I have to go the rest of my life without companionship, knowing myself won't be a problem."</i>
</p>
<p> Dana wasn't sure what woke her out of the light doze she had fallen into. It might have been a whimper or the restless shifting of the body next to her. Being an Earl's daughter, she had been granted her own bedroom since childhood. During those occasions that Dana had chosen to share a bed in the last few years it hadn't been to actually sleep beside another person. "Then there was Thistlemoor's backfield and the Pendrell's linen closet." Part of her mind reminded her with a smug smirk.
</p>
<p> A pleased sigh slipped out of Gabrielle's barely parted lips. She squirmed in place, tangling the tossed-back sheet tighter around bare legs. A few wistful sounding words in a language the Irish woman didn't recognise murmured out. Gabrielle tugged absently at her flimsy white shirt, pulling it snugly to the side and revealing hardened nipples to Dana's observation.
</p>
<p> "Holy Brighid." The redhead whispered as she propped herself up on one elbow. Disregarding the uncomfortable stab of guilt she felt at the intrusion on Gabrielle's privacy, Dana studied her sleeping companion. Whoever the storyteller was dreaming about was one fortunate soul. Dana had never been privy to such an exquisite scene of arousal. Her own youthful fumblings seemed so dry by comparison, inadequate when compared to what Dana expected before entering into the tryst. She couldn't help but envy both Gabrielle and her dream partner. 
</p>
<p> The blonde whispered another few words in that liquid sounding language she was using. Most of it was lost but the name 'Xena' came out clearly during a particularly sensuous roll of Gabrielle's hips.
</p>
<p> Dana blinked in surprise. "I should have seen this coming." She told herself, leaning closer. The knowledge that the storyteller was La Princesa Guerrera's lover made a few of Gabrielle's more puzzling comments fall into place. 
</p>
<p> "Missed you." One hand skimmed up Gabrielle's writhing body, flitting over her hip, stomach, breast and throat. The trembling fingers ended up tangled in her sweat-dampened golden hair. "Oh Xena. I love you."
</p>
<p> Dana's cheeks felt hot for more than one reason. Her mind was muddled enough that she barely noticed that the other woman's breathy exclamations had changed to English. Had she herself ever looked so helplessly aroused under the attentions of one of her partners?
</p>
<p> "Ah... ah... Xena, please." Gabrielle's body tensed erotically.
</p>
<p> Dana stared, chewing at a knuckle to keep from reaching out. Not with Sean, maybe with Holly. Holly had the advantage of five years experience and a good deal of sexual tutoring from other members of the serving staff on Dana.
</p>
<p> "NO!" The wail of desolation shattered the mood. "I can't stay here without her!" The bard was quite suddenly close to tears.
</p>
<p> Without thinking Dana extended a hand to soothe the other woman's distress but a thrashing arm fended it off. "It's all right." The redhead sat up the rest of the way. "Take it easy." She patted a lean, bared leg.
</p>
<p> Gabrielle's expression shifted into a determined frown. "Hades, it's not fair. How can I be content in the afterlife...forever separated from my reason for being?"
</p>
<p> Strangely enough, that first word sounded more like a name than the curse Dana expected it should mean. Her classical education helped with the reference, odd as it was. Gabrielle was arguing with a devil substitute from ancient Greece.  As for the 'reason for being' remark. That one caught in Dana's thoughts and stuck. What would it be like to love someone so completely that you credited them with sustaining your existence? Sure, she loved her family. Da, Mam, and Melissa were the centre of her world, and then there was William. Dana wanted to believe the time would come when she cared for him the same, but she wasn't naïve.  Right now her reaction to William was a mixture of wishful thinking and a gut level physical response to how attractive he was.
</p>
<p> "You owe us!" the blonde protested then went frighteningly still. "NO!" This was anger, but she quickly flipped back to loss again. "You don't mean that." Gabrielle's tightly shut eyes leaked tears. "But I love you."
</p>
<p> Dana tossed caution and respectability to the wind. She would deal with the consequences later. For now the Irish woman just wanted to soothe the hurt in her new friend's voice. "Hush. It's okay." Dana gathered the weakly struggling form into her arms. Lord, it felt good in so many ways, only one of which was purely tactile. Offering comfort made her feel useful after a day of being nothing more than a tagalong. Except for her short stint at caring for Patrick's babe Dana had done little she could be proud of since leaving home. She missed Thistlemoor and the people that populated the surrounding countryside. She missed running wild through the tall sunset landscape while Melissa chased her, giggling and happy. Mostly she missed the opportunity to just relax and be herself, careless of who might be watching.
</p>
<p> Gabrielle thrashed against the comfort a moment then, with a whimper, snuggled around the other woman's body. "Oh Xena. Don't leave me again." Her face crushed enthusiastically into the heat of Dana's breasts, nuzzling.
</p>
<p> A sad, understanding look settled onto Dana's face. She petted the tousled gold hair, a steady, rhythmic stroke. "Hush-a-bye. It's going to be all right." A kiss pressed down. "I've got you." 
</p>
<p> No one was having a comfortable night it seemed. The floorboards in the hallway creaked with the tread of some other restless guest. Through the wall, Dana could hear William tossing in the hold of his own dreams. His mumbles were muffled by the obstructions between them so she couldn't hear him clearly, however a distressed cry of "Alex, how could you?" cut through the plaster.
</p>
<p> Another set of feet padded down the hallway outside their door.
</p>
<p> Dana rocked in place as Gabrielle's restrained sobs came to an end with yet another whisper of 'Xena'. William shouted out something about being sorry and a faint squeak of a door and stealthy tread was almost, but not quite, overpowered. Why was there movement in William's room if he was in bed having a nightmare? "Gabrielle..." Dana's comforting rock switched to a shake. She squirmed, reluctantly attempting to lift the other woman's face out of her cleavage. "Gabrielle wake up." Damn it. That was definitely the sound of William's pack being dragged across the floor. Finally the storyteller's confused green eyes opened. Just as a plea of "Skinner! Help me!" erupted from next door. "Something's wrong with William." Dana untangled herself from Gabrielle's embrace.
</p>
<p> The bard rubbed the sleep from her eyes.  "By the Gods!" Her face burned red with embarrassment at waking to find herself wrapped around her new friend with her head resting between two very soft breasts. 
</p>
<p> Some dull thumping and Spanish curses cut off anything that Gabrielle was about to say. The blonde came immediately alert, jumping off the bed and scooping up her staff as she lunged for the door to their room.
</p>
<p> Dana hesitated a breath, mildly concerned over her half-dressed state, while Gabrielle exited the room. The fact that someone was obviously fighting in the next room decided her. Dana might not be up to William and Gabrielle's skill level but her aid might be needed. The Irish woman climbed off the bed and scanned the room for something she could use as a weapon. The pistol and rifle were both in her fiancee's room. A rather heavy, empty water jug seemed the best bet. She picked up the ceramic container and padded over to peek out the open doorway. The ruckus was coming from inside William's room, but one figure was in the hall creeping up to the portal. Luckily his back was towards Dana. Hoisting the jug high above her head the small woman tiptoed up. He was lifting a pistol, aiming into the noisy bedroom just as Dana brought the water jug crashing down over his head. He collapsed under the blow. She winced at the ache the action had caused in her arms and stepped over the prone form to peek into the room.
</p>
<p> One bandit lay bonelessly over Mulder's struggling form. A pool of scarlet was forming in the man's greasy hair.
</p>
<p> Gabrielle's staff whistled through the air smashing the rickety chair that another Spaniard was defending himself with. His expression was dire. With a roar the man charged at the tiny woman who had so effortlessly taken out his partner as he was strangling their original target. His large hands extended to grab her.
</p>
<p> Gabrielle side-stepped the wild attack and turned in a complete circle to gain the momentum that she needed to land a truly painful strike across the man's shoulder-blades, flattening him.  Unfortunately he crashed into Fox's pack and weapons, which he promptly grabbed after.
</p>
<p> Dana let out a little yelp of distress and scrambled after the gun the bandit in the hallway had been holding. Her worry was misplaced. Gabrielle landed a sharp rap across the man's fingers then thumped him hard on the forehead with the butt of her staff. He slumped flat to the floor without another sound.
</p>
<p> "Dana!" Gabrielle noticed the redhead crouching in the doorway. The handle of a shattered water pitcher rolled away at the startled response the Irish woman's name produced. Dana's shaking hands were wrapped around a pistol. Seeing the fright in the other's eyes, the bard kept her voice steady and calm. "Dana pull the sheets off the bed. We need to tie these two...three." She amended, noticing the man sprawled just behind her friend. The bard turned to look over William's state.  Gabrielle shoved the body draped over Fox onto the floor with both hands, freeing her friend. Mulder was gasping and only half-aware. Gabrielle helped him to sit up. "Can you breathe, Fox?"
</p>
<p> He nodded, staring about at the hapless robbers. 
</p>
<p> Dana attempted to gather up the pile of fabric bunched up at the foot of William's bed. "If we cut this into strips it'll go further but it's kind of thin."
</p>
<p> "It'll do until we can wake the innkeeper and get something stronger." Gabrielle allowed, standing up. 
</p>
<p> "Christ..." Mulder swung his legs off the bed, clearing the way for his fiancee to tug the sheet loose but didn't rise. His head still spun and his throat burned. "They...I was asleep..." He croaked. How could he have not realised the attack was coming? They must have made noise breaking into his room. He should have awoken. This never would have happened back in Canada. Where the hell had his sense of self-preservation gone? If his companions hadn't come to his rescue he'd be dead by now. Fox looked up. On top of everything else he suddenly realised that the two women in his room were half-nude and his only reaction was embarrassment...total shame that his carelessness had required that they were the ones to save HIM from robbery and death. "Thank you Gabrielle." The words of gratitude hurt for several reasons, the least of which was his damaged windpipe.
</p>
<p> "Don't thank me." The Amazon set to slicing strips out of the thin sheet with a knife she had fished out of his pack. "I was passed out cold. We shouldn't have pushed ourselves so hard today, Fox. It dulled us. If Dana hadn't heard and woke me up... You should thank her."
</p>
<p> Fox shifted a blasted expression on his fiancee. "Dana?"
</p>
<p> The Irish woman kept her hopeful expression as tightly under control as possible. "I heard footsteps, then some trouble in here."
</p>
<p> "She also took out this one." Gabrielle started with the limp man in the hallway. She dragged him into the room, flopped him over and efficiently bound his wrists together. "He was behind me, wasn't he, Dana?"
</p>
<p> "Yeah. He had a gun. I guess he figured silence wasn't required any longer."
</p>
<p> "Gods." Gabrielle added just the hint of unnecessary harshness to the knot she was tying. "Thank you, Dana. You saved both our lives tonight."
</p>
<p> Fox rose shakily to his feet. His gaze ran over the three men then ended up once more on the woman that he was supposed to marry. Lord but she had gorgeous legs, not as perfectly formed as Gabrielle's but, still impressive. Mulder bit the inside of his mouth, demanding focus from himself. He swallowed painfully. "Thank you, Dana." His voice was low and husky.
</p>
<p> "You're welcome, William." She whispered back.
</p>
<p> Not that wretched name again, but then, he hadn't offered up any alternative had he? "Sam calls me Wils, when Father isn't proof-reading her letters. My friends call me Fox." He gave her the choice. Shame flickered in eyes more grey than blue right now.
</p>
<p> "I'd like to call you Fox." Dana admitted quietly.
</p>
<p> "Yeah, well..." Fox pushed away from the bed on less than steady legs. "I'll go tell the owner of this place that it's infested. Excuse me." He edged past Dana, his eyes on the floor, and headed for the stairs.
</p>
<p> Dana stared after him, leaning back against the wall in reaction. "By the hollow hills..."
</p>
<p> "And then some." Gabrielle seconded the pleased emotion behind the phrase she didn't quite understand.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>SCULLY (to Mulder): "You said it yourself once. You said that a... a dream is an answer to a question we haven't learned how to ask."</i>
</p>
<p> Much to Mulder's disappointment the women had withdrawn back to their own room as soon as Fox brought the innkeeper up. He could have used a few minutes in their company to help centre himself. Between the rude awakening, the dull pain in his throat, and the flurry of activity Mulder wasn't ready to settle down onto his newly made bed and sleep.
</p>
<p> One of the owner's daughters had replaced his torn sheets while Fox and the innkeeper dragged the thieves down to the stable. Maybe it would be best to clean up a little and get out of the top layer of gear he wore. With the edge taken off his exhaustion his body was going to be more particular about it's comfort. Sleeping in his boots and ammo belt wasn't the most restful sensation.
</p>
<p> Through the wall he could just make out the murmur of his companions. Perhaps it was all for the best that they withdrew promptly. Something that sounded suspiciously like crying had come through a bit earlier. His own emotional state was precarious enough. Handling an upset woman was completely beyond his capabilities right now.
</p>
<p> After sliding the washstand in front of the door Fox divested himself of his boots, belt and vest. He moved his weapons to within reach of the bed then flopped down on the creaking mattress, lacking the physical energy to bother washing up after all. His wrists dangled off either side of the bed frame and he stared at the ceiling.
</p>
<p> Faint images from his interrupted dream came back to tease at the edges of his mind. Parts of the jumbled enactment made perfect sense. Father, Sam and Skinner were regular performers in his nightmares. It was strange however that Gabrielle and Alex seemed to have usurped Eyota and Jan's usual places. Fox hadn't realised how strong an impression the blonde was making in his brain.
</p>
<p> Fox turned his face into the fresh scent of the sheets. The main message behind the nightmare was painfully obvious. It wasn't the first time his sleeping mind had slammed him about his violent temper but it was one of the clearest representations. That clarity was likely a result of fatigue combined with his despicable behaviour towards his fiancee. He hadn't intended to have this kind of extended contact with the girl. There was supposed to be a brief ceremony as soon as he arrived, a quick consummation, then Fox had intended to promptly ship his new wife back to Ireland. His actions towards her were disgraceful, Mulder realised that. Hell, he was aware of his boorish behaviour as it occurred. Even as he caved to pressure and did as Father demanded, part of him was attempting to chase her off. Unfortunately, the girl refused to co-operate. So either she was more desperate for the union than expected or, wonder of wonders, she actually liked him.
</p>
<p> "It has to be the first." Fox told himself. "There was no way the latter could apply." The girl... the young woman, he corrected himself, was past the age that most noblewomen should be safely married. Fox had overheard Father and one of his compatriots speculating on why the Earl of Thistlemoor was willing to promise his daughter to such a distant, unknown suitor. A dubious reputation or a homely face had been their chief conjectures. Still, actions held greater weight with Fox than his Father's malicious theories. Yes, Dana had slowed them down, but she also tried valiantly. The fact was he should have admitted his own exhaustion sooner and rested. If he had then events would have occurred differently. This entire misadventure with the thieves was his fault. He hadn't been up to the challenge. His fiancée had been the one to notice the trouble and raise the alarm. She had flattened one of the thieves too. Admittedly, her weapon was a crude choice, not like Gabrielle's impressive staffwork, but it had gotten the job done. She hadn't just stood back and screamed like some girls might.
</p>
<p> Fox closed his eyes. His forehead creased. "Okay, she's pretty too. " Not the type he was accustomed to, a wholesome, sweet-faced girl and so petite. "No shorter than Gabrielle." It was unfair to compare the two women, like apples and peaches... and just forget putting Eyota in the same basket. Dana was beautiful, but in her own unique way. "When did pretty become beautiful, Fox?" He asked himself.
</p>
<p> His temples throbbed with every beat of his heart, a situation he was all too familiar with. There was no way he was going to get any sleep until he worked this through.
</p>
<p> "What's the problem, Fox?" His own mind demanded. "That's the woman you promised to marry. If you don't want to end up living some kind of twisted façade like Father and Mother... you had better open yourself up to the possibilities Dana presents instead of wishing after things you can't get a grip on." He thumped his head back on the mattress. "Like Gabrielle." Came the thought. "I might still have a chance with Gabrielle... yeah, right. Even in my dreams she likes Dana better than me."
</p>
<p> A vision came of himself sitting in the dark alone wreathed in smoke... with a mostly empty bottle of whiskey, while his wife was upstairs dealing with a crying child. Fox shivered. It was too clear, too close. "What did father think of to put him in the mood to lash out at his own flesh and blood? How near are Father's regrets to my own?"
</p>
<p> A slightly hysterical chuckle escaped. Somehow Fox didn't think anything like Alex's wicked green eyes and seductive wiles preyed on Father's mind. Still... old loves, unfulfilled wishes, and the sensation of being trapped weren't likely to be unique thoughts.
</p>
<p> So there it was. Maybe tomorrow, instead of sulking off alone, it was time to talk to the woman he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with. There was a spark of something there, something that could stand investigating. It was either going to work between him and Dana... or he'd best bail out now before the water got any deeper.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
<i>XENA (about Gabrielle): "She believes that everyone has a soul mate on earth made just for them."</i>
</p>
<p> "Should we try to block the door?" Dana asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed. The simple hook lock no longer instilled her with much confidence.
</p>
<p> Gabrielle shook her head. "Two attacks in one night is fairly unlikely... and it would slow us down if Fox needed us again." She reasoned. "The thieves most likely thought he had all the money and valuables... being the man. Once they took him out they would have come in here next."
</p>
<p> Dana stared, wide-eyed, at the door. "They were going to kill him." The statement came out in a shocked whisper. "He almost died tonight." She processed, her head slowly shook back and forth.
</p>
<p> "But they didn't." Gabrielle reminded the other. "You saw to that. You heard them before it could go that far." The bard steered the topic carefully, slightly embarrassed by what she needed to discuss. "I suppose I woke you." She leaned her staff against the wall. "I should explain a few things. I didn't mean to disturb you." 
</p>
<p> "Don't let it bother you." Dana cut the beginning of the explanation off with a frown, her ginger brows coming together.
</p>
<p> "No, really... I was way out of line." Gabrielle persisted. "I'm sorry."
</p>
<p> "You were having a nightmare... then... " The other woman dismissed the incident, her own guilt at enjoying the contact clawed at her conscience. "Any of us could die before we get back to camp." Her mind stubbornly examined the concept of losing her fiancee. "Oh my God." Blue eyes turned on her companion. "My family is depending on my marriage to William. All the bank drafts are waiting in London... waiting on me producing a marriage certificate. Father can't hold the land much longer without Mr Mulder's money." Her pleasant Irish accent didn't help to ease the flatness of her tone. "But it's more than that."
</p>
<p> Gabrielle settled down on the bed beside the other woman. Her preliminary hesitation at initiating physical contact was overcome by the look of misery on Dana's face. A lean arm lifted to wrap around Dana's narrow shoulders. Shivers were just beginning to wrack the other woman's frame.
</p>
<p> "When Da first talked to me about marrying William... Fox... " She spoke in a bare murmur. "I was absolutely furious with him because his carelessness was the cause of things getting so bad. Da was almost in tears at having to use me as a bartering piece, but there was no other way left. Thistlemoor has been in our family for longer than we have records. Both my brothers and all my ancestors are buried there." She winced. "It's more than the place we live. It's our life's blood. Still, Da left the final decision up to me. I'm the one that told him to accept Mr Mulder's offer all the time swearing that the devil himself must have crossed the ocean and whispered our troubles into that man's ear. It's eerie how he knew just what to offer and exactly what we were willing to concede." Dana's eyes shut tight. "Then I got the first letter from Samantha."
</p>
<p> When the silence threatened to stretch too long Gabrielle prompted gently. "Fox's little sister."
</p>
<p> It was enough to restart the sombre monologue. "She seems like such a sweet kid, a strange combination of innocence and tomboy carelessness." Dana found it hard to pin down Samantha's character. Maybe what Fox had said about Mr Mulder proof-reading the missives was a factor. "But, Holy mother, does she adore her brother. I suspect she thinks he hung the moon and stars in the night sky. Maybe that's because of their age difference or maybe most sisters feel that way. I don't know." Her breath caught. "My brothers...  Charlie was just a kid when he died and Wally wasn't much older when the fever took him. Do you have any brothers, Gabrielle?" The question was almost an afterthought.
</p>
<p> "I had a sister." The blonde admitted. "There was her husband, but I don't think that's anywhere near the same." This wasn't where the conversation needed to go. "How many letters did it take before you... " Gabrielle steered, letting the sentence hang unfinished on purpose.
</p>
<p> "Before I fell in love with him?" The back of one hand wiped at a damp trail on Dana's cheek. "Only two. I suppose I'm easy... and she was ever so enthusiastic. Well, maybe three, if you count his. It was the one that sprang the trap shut." She corrected. "I got this note from him with her second mailing. I can't help but wonder now if he even wrote it himself." A sniffle slipped out. "It's folded up in my diary. I hope that horrid spy hasn't lost it."
</p>
<p> Yes, that was a tear glinting on one freckled cheekbone.
</p>
<p> "In the note he told me some story he said he found in a dusty, old book of Greek mythology. It started 'Tis said, that in the dawn of the world mankind wore different bodies. Each figure had two heads, four arms and four legs.' I grinned the first time I read that line." 
</p>
<p> Gabrielle recognised it immediately. That one of her favourite tales from her own time would survive this far into the future caused a jolt of pleasure to rattle her.
</p>
<p> "I wish I could show it to you. It was so elegantly written." Dana's laugh was shaky. "It went on to tell how the gods in some fit of anger hurled thunderbolts down at the world ripping every one of the people below in half and scattered the pairs." She paraphrased. "Ever since that time men and women have felt the need to  spend their lives searching for the other half of their souls... trying to become whole again." A flutter of intense emotion shivered through Dana's body. 
</p>
<p> "That's... " "What exactly do I say?" "That's a beautiful story." Gabrielle couldn't help but recall the time she had told that very tale to Iolaus as he lay wounded in her arms while darkness threatened to swallow the world.
</p>
<p> Dana nodded. "That's what I thought when I read it. I know it's just a fairy tale, but do you believe it, Gabrielle, that somewhere everyone has an absolutely perfect mate?"
</p>
<p> "Gods!" Her blonde head rested carefully against the red. "I think perhaps that there are a multitude of people we meet over the course of time that we could happily spend our lives with... if circumstances happen to fall the right way." She considered. "And most folk will find one of those types of relationships eventually." Many years of observation contributed to her theory. "But some of us, if we're very lucky or we spend long enough looking... Yes, I think there is one perfect lovematch for us all. There's one person with whom you become so perfectly complete that it's like finding the other half of your soul." Her voice was husky with emotion. "And if you're fortunate enough to chance across that person it changes you forever after."
</p>
<p> "I've never considered myself a romantic, Gabrielle." Dana whispered. "Everyone back home says I've a fine, sensible head on my shoulders." Her amusement was strained. "At least my family and friends would all take that argument. I've been treated accordingly ever since I was old enough to speak my mind. Melissa is the dreamer in the family." Just a hint of jealousy crept into her tone.  "Of course, Samantha and her family... being on the far side of the ocean and never having met me... how were they to know my temperament? So William... Fox writes me this child's tale, and normally I would smile then toss it aside but... something about it. It preyed on my mind over days... that he would share that story with me... " She sighed. "I don't know what he was thinking, telling it to me. Maybe he didn't mean it the way I took it but... the mood of it seized my heart." Her face turned into Gabrielle's shoulder. "I honestly want to make this work. I want to... but those villains almost ended it before we've even had a chance."
</p>
<p> "Almost." The other reminded. "But they didn't succeed."
</p>
<p> "What about tomorrow? What about every day after that? We're in the middle of a war." Dana's voice broke. "I don't want to loose him before I've even had him... and I don't know how... " She lost coherency as the sobs shook her. "I want to go home. I want to lock him in chains and put him somewhere safe... make him listen to me. I want to go in there, climb into his bed, and hold him so tight that the scent of his body gets permanently burned into my brain." 
</p>
<p> That sentiment caught Gabrielle off guard but she didn't comment.
</p>
<p> "I don't want to play this game anymore."
</p>
<p> The breakdown wasn't completely unexpected. The bard realised that Dana had been running on adrenaline and emotions just like Fox. The nap that the Irish woman had taken on the table downstairs hadn't been nearly long enough to mend the damage. Then there was Gabrielle's behaviour earlier. No doubt the situation had thrown Dana further off balance. How could she have imposed herself on her friend like that? Gabrielle had gone two thousand years with no more contact than the constant rumble of Xena's thoughts inside her mind. Gods, but she missed that mental connection every day since rejoining the living. Perhaps it was that aching emptiness that pushed her into Dana's arms.
</p>
<p> Now here they were again, only this time it was Gabrielle offering up the comfort of whispered assurances and a sheltering embrace.
</p>
<p> "What should I do?" The redhead gasped out between desperate swallows of air. "What should I do?"
</p>
<p> The older girl eased them sideways and down until she could stretch out on the bed. Her right hand petted Dana's upper back while the left held her close. "You're still tired. I know it all seems overwhelming right now but there's no need to panic. Come the morning everything will make more sense."
</p>
<p> A palm scrubbed at Dana's eyes. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me tonight." She apologised weakly.
</p>
<p> "You're far from home in an unfamiliar situation, over which you have little control. You're worn down. You just thwarted a murder... stepped into danger and used force on a stranger." The Amazon listed. "Your entire support system is missing... your family and friends, so you're feeling vulnerable. I think you're holding up rather well, all things considered. Don't you?"
</p>
<p> A weak giggle interrupted Dana's sniffles. "If my sister could see me now she would screech in shock. Melissa says I'm the steadiest person she knows... and I feel like a shipwreck."
</p>
<p> Gabrielle eased off on the strength of her embrace only to have Dana fiercely wrap her arms about the blonde's narrow waist and hold on tight.
</p>
<p> "I'm sorry." The Irish woman whispered. "But I need someone to keep me grounded. Please. I know I've been a burden."
</p>
<p> A nod rubbed Gabrielle's cheek against sweat curled red hair. The physical contact was gratifying on several levels. "I understand." So this was what it was like... being the stronger, more experienced member of a team. Xena had done this same duty for her back in the beginning, but of course, Gabrielle realised that she was a different person than her lover. She didn't know if she was up to this. Xena wouldn't have allowed the attack on Fox to go as far as it did. She would have stopped them all from overextending themselves on the road by the force of her will. Xena wouldn't have groped Dana and cried in her sleep. The blonde knew the sense of guilt she was feeling was unreasonable, but that didn't stop the emotion from nipping at her. The bard hooked the blanket with one foot and pulled it high enough to grip. "Actually, it's almost frightening how well I understand. When I first began travelling... " The words almost slipped out unconsciously. "I thought I was simply a useless tag-along... but everyone contributes in their own way."
</p>
<p> "How long have you been apart from Xena?" Dana asked gently.
</p>
<p> "Too long. It feels like forever." Gabrielle wasn't surprised at the other's knowledge. Her immortal beloved had told her once, so very long ago, that she talked in her sleep. Dana must have heard enough to put the pieces together. " I was dreaming of her. I'm sorry about earlier, how I must have been acting... the way I grabbed at you. I never meant to make you uncomfortable about sharing a room with me."
</p>
<p> "Nay, my friend. Think nothing of it." Dana objected. "I'm no convent born nun, to be disturbed by honest, human emotions." She considered, then discarded the idea of telling Gabrielle how much she had actually enjoyed the view. "The dream, it turned bad near the end."
</p>
<p> Gabrielle pursed her lips. "I dreamt she was leaving me."
</p>
<p> "Is that what happened? Did Xena leave you?"
</p>
<p> Gabrielle exhaled her faint amusement against the Irish woman's forehead. "No. I can't see that ever happening. Neither of us LEFT. We were rather forcibly separated." She clouded the truth. "It's just taken a while for me to figure out how to get back to where I need to be." Now wasn't the time to try and explain exactly what the real situation was. Perhaps, if Dana worked out to be the kind of friend Gabrielle suspected, maybe later the story could come out in full. 
</p>
<p> "Is Xena where you need to be."
</p>
<p> "There is no other place. She is the other half of my soul."
</p>
<p> "No wonder you believed the story, you have experienced finding your soulmate."
</p>
<p> Several minutes of quiet comfort passed before Gabrielle realised that the other had fallen asleep. She smiled. After spending so long without actually feeling the needs of a living, breathing body she had to admit to a certain amount of enjoyment at the renewed hungers a physical form entailed. Her unconscious groping of Dana earlier was partial proof of that. Even now, concentrating on the sensation of the pretty redhead in her arms was provoking potent twinges of desire. Fox was a damned lucky man.
</p>
<p> It's not like Xena had been celibate all these years, so the Bard had enjoyed her share of second hand encounters. There were also a few dreams that seemed real enough to leave her fingers burning. Still, all of those mental trysts were nothing compared to the pangs of sensation she was currently dealing with. 
</p>
<p> Gabrielle's eagerness to find her lover was ascending to yet another level of need. With a wistful sigh, she snuggled herself into a comfortable position and followed Dana into the comfort of sleep... certain that the dreams that awaited her were bound to be of the sensuous variety.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
<i>KRYCEK: "I don't appreciate being ditched like somebody's bad date."</i>
</p>
<p> Richard held his jacket closed against the moisture in the air. False dawn was only just surrendering to the sunrise. "This is the kind of shite that only happens to us." Sharpe complained. Losing a Lieutenant Colonel with absolutely no clue as to what happened was not something he wanted to explain to Wellington. The whole thing was a lesson in being careful of what you wished for. They'd gotten careless last night, not setting up a watch right off and letting the son of a bitch leave the camp alone. Now they were paying the price. Richard stood at the spot where Mulder had reached the creek last night. A muddy footprint and some disturbed rocks marked the position clearly enough. Harper and Hagman were circling around, examining the surrounding area for clues.
</p>
<p> "He had to have gone by water, Sir." Dan Hagman looked up from where he was crouching on the far side of the small waterway, his hand absently touching the pebbled bank. "There's no sign of a trail hereabouts."
</p>
<p> "Bloody hell." Sharpe glared at the uninformative ground. "He either didn't put up any kind of a fight... "
</p>
<p> "... or he left by choice." Patrick finished the sentence, earning himself an annoyed glower from the Major. 
</p>
<p> All around the clearing the chosen men looked away to avoid meeting the sweep of their commander's fierce glare. His foul mood was apparent in every muscle of his body.
</p>
<p> "Standing about isn't going to get us any answers. Harper, you take Perkins and Cooper upstream... we'll go down." Any stray evidence would have washed that way. Richard needed Hagman's sharp eyes with him.
</p>
<p> "Aye Sir." Patrick acknowledged the order and it's irate tone. "And how far would you have us go, Major Sir?" The big man knew his friend's temper was up this morning. Sharpe was going to blow off at someone before the day was done.
</p>
<p> "About two miles or so should do it." Richard decided. "Send Perkins after us if you find anything." Rifles firing would draw the wrong sort of attention, considering the area was in dispute. "If you don't find any traces turn around and come downstream after us." Sharpe stalked over and caught the reins of Mulder's mount. All the Colonel's gear and their extra supplies from yesterday's stop were packed on it's back.
</p>
<p> "And if there's no trail either way?" Harper prompted carefully.
</p>
<p> "I'll worry about that when I have to." Came the snappish reply.
</p>
<p> The Sergeant nodded then withdrew, crooking his finger to bring his assigned companions along. It wasn't until they were out of earshot that the silence was broken.
</p>
<p> "Do you really think the Colonel left on purpose?" Perkins tossed a nervous glance back over his shoulder as if the Major might descend on him for voicing the query.
</p>
<p> "It would explain the lack of a trail." Patrick shrugged, watching the ground. 
</p>
<p> "But it don't make much sense." The youngest of them complained.
</p>
<p> "And since when have you expected sense from an officer?" Cooper, on the other bank, countered. "Especially seeing as he's not even a proper born Englishman. Who knows what they teach 'em over in the colonies? He don't even speak the King's own English proper." Cooper grumped. "He talks even worse than you, Patrick." Came the taunt. 
</p>
<p> "I heard they live in big forts and wear naught but furs over there." The teenager's voice was touched with amazement. "That it's cold and it snows all year."
</p>
<p> Patrick snorted. "You'd have to ask Harris." The red-haired rifleman knew more about that sort of thing than Harper. If it wasn't for the army it was unlikely that the Irishman would ever have set foot outside his own country. He stopped to look closer at some scuffs in the muddy ground but decided an animal was more likely responsible than their wayward Colonel was.
</p>
<p> "If the Frogs got him they'd head north." Cooper observed out loud. "But if he just took off... do you think he'd head back to the base, Harper?"
</p>
<p> Patrick shook his head. "There's something not quite right about that bugger, but damned if I can put my finger on what exactly he's up to." Not to mention his annoying habit of flirting with Major Sharpe. However, Patrick wasn't about to be the one to let the men in on that twist in the officer's behaviour. Then there was Miss Dana, the poor girl. Being one of the common born wasn't the most comfortable way to grow up but he wouldn't wish Miss Dana's place on any female relation he had. Bless the sweet girl's heart for trying to make the best of it but the short of things was that her Pa had sold her off like a prize mare. Patrick suspected he'd never have the means to shower his Ramona with fancy dresses and jewellery but the woman knew he loved her. They'd made a fine baby boy between them and he had every intention of getting a few more wee ones on her when the time was right. Pat suspected that if Miss Dana wanted a baby she was going to have to look to someone besides her husband... and adultery was dangerous business when big estates and titles were involved.
</p>
<p> "How 'bout this, Sergeant Harper?" Perkins indicated a broken branch not too far ahead.
</p>
<p> "Nay." Patrick peered closely. "It's an old break." A look about the area showed no other indicators of recent passage. "They said he's a crack woodsman." The big man rumbled absently. "Though I've seen no sign of it. If he actually is... we're not like to find his trail."
</p>
<p> "THEY said a lot of things, Harper." Cooper grinned. "And I'm sure we would have been told more if any of us had been in camp longer."
</p>
<p> Patrick shot a questioning look over at the other man. Most of his information had come from Miss Dana. Camp scuttlebutt was another thing entirely. "What did ya hear, Cooper?"
</p>
<p> "The lads he was drilling... " The sly looking rifleman began. "... they said he handled their muskets like a raw recruit. One of them thought he was goin' to get chewed out over his bayonet, which he's been trying to replace, but the Colonel didn't even notice the end were broke off it. You got to admit that's an odd sort of slip-up."
</p>
<p> "He's an odd sort of man." Patrick confirmed.
</p>
<p> "The thing is, maybe we shouldn't be looking so hard to find the silly bloke. If all of us stick to the same story we could convince the mucky-mucks that run things it were a unfortunate incident." Cooper schemed. "The Colonel, he charged straight at a patrol without waiting for us and got himself shot." Came the mock innocent report. "His body caught in the tack and the Frogs hauled him away with the horse." A grin lit up Cooper's face. "Whatcha think Harper?"
</p>
<p> "They might swallow it." Patrick allowed. "But do you fancy dangling at the end of a rope if the bastard turns up later with another story entirely?" The Sergeant qualified. "Best we find out what happened. We at least need a body to keep the Major on the safe side of a court martial."
</p>
<p> Cooper grumbled to himself as he resumed searching the shore.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
<i>MULDER: "You're full of crap, Krycek. You're an invertebrate scum-sucker whose moral dipstick is about two drops short of bone dry."</i>
</p>
<p> Aleksandr crouched down in the underbrush considering his next step carefully. Not too far ahead a French soldier was fidgeting away his turn on watch. The young soldier shifted often, swinging the barrel of his musket at any stray sound. Alek couldn't blame the kid for being edgy considering the dangers in the vicinity but it would make initiating contact a bit more difficult. The spy pondered creeping about in search of another, more stable member of the patrol but movement, especially the stealthy manoeuvres that plan of action would require, was another danger entirely.
</p>
<p> "Uniform off... or on?" Aleksandr frowned. "Definitely on." The protection of his stolen rank wasn't something to be tossed aside. In fact, he counted on it. As a high-ranking British officer he would automatically be sent to Ducos for questioning. "French or English?" He assessed his mark confidently. "French." He couldn't take the chance of the kid misunderstanding his attempt to surrender. "Unarmed? Not in this lifetime." Alek had reached the point in his development that being without a knife near at hand gave him the shivers.
</p>
<p> Maybe his best bet was simply to wait quietly for the changing of the guard. Approaching when two men were briefly at the post would give the soldiers a feeling of security. His legs had already gone past the stage of cramping and the position he had squirmed into wasn't completely uncomfortable. In fact the stillness that Aleksandr had fallen into was as close to resting as possible without actually falling asleep.
</p>
<p> "The longer you stall, the better the chances are that Sharpe's crew will pick up your trail." Alek warned himself. That thought almost pricked him into action when he noticed another Frenchman join the first, a Sergeant. "Mama's angel has earned more than a few lit candles lately, Sacha. It's been your lucky month so far." Alek pushed cautiously upright, lifting his hands away from his body and upward. "Messieurs." He moved cautiously forward enough to give the startled soldiers a chance to aim their weapons on him. {I wish to surrender.} His French was carefully pronounced. "Je me rends." He repeated even louder when they did nothing but stare at him in shock.
</p>
<p> Finally, one of them... the relief-man, shouted over his shoulder for help. Their eyes scanned the surrounding area, looking for a British trap.
</p>
<p> {I'm alone.} Aleksandr assured them. 
</p>
<p> "Il est un officier." The elder soldier explained to the younger. {Where's your rifle, Colonel?} He demanded.
</p>
<p> "This one knows the enemy." Alek thought with a certain amount of relief. He had recognised the subtle marks of rank and the fact that Aleksandr was wearing the green of a rifle company. {I left it behind.} The Russian explained. {I've nothing more than blades on me. I swear.} It was a lie. He had a garrotting cord threaded into his shirt collar, but they weren't going to notice that. Nor were they likely to expect the sheer number of knives he wore either.
</p>
<p> Two more men arrived from the camp.
</p>
<p> {Stay here, Simard.} The Sergeant ordered. {You two... look around. There's English about.} A considering frown was turned towards the surrendering officer. {Come this way, Sir.} The musket barrel indicated the direction. {Keep your hands were I can see them.}
</p>
<p> Alek inclined his head and after making his way to where the suspicious soldier stood, he walked in ahead. Much to the spy's pleasure the patrol seemed to be larger than Aleksandr had first suspected. From the looks of things about the camp there were almost twenty men about. Sharpe's lot weren't likely to take on this bunch, even if they caught up to him.
</p>
<p> All about the French soldiers were beginning their day. Tea was being steeped and bedrolls were being shaken out. Aleksandr was taken into the centre of the erupting activity. The Major in charge was just sliding into his blue jacket, brushing it and himself off as he did. Grass was shaken out of white-blonde hair.
</p>
<p> Major Etienne Navarre frowned as his eyes lifted to the approaching men. There had been no musket fire to indicate a skirmish, yet here was Sergeant Moncrieff with an English officer in custody. Etienne suspected that the interruption, coming as it did... before he'd even had time to completely wake up, boded for a busy day. {Where's the trouble, Moncrieff?}
</p>
<p> {No trouble, Sir.} The soldier stopped his captive well back from his commander. The stranger hadn't been searched yet. {This one... } His weapon gestured. {Came up on Simard just as we were changing the watch, Major. He claims he wants to surrender.} The soldier explained. {I set two of the men to combing the area for more English.}
</p>
<p> Navarre's pale brows knit together. His voice raised to a level that rattled through the entire camp. {Double the pickets! Next shift to the perimeter. NOW!} Stormy grey eyes swung back to the newcomer. {Has he been disarmed?} The lack of a pistol or rifle didn't mean the stranger was safe.
</p>
<p> "Commandant." Alek wanted to prevent a through search of his body. {I request parole. I surrendered.} He reminded the man. 
</p>
<p> {Who are you and what are your intentions?} Came the demand.
</p>
<p> The Russian considered before responding. {I am Lieutenant Colonel Victor Alexander.} He supplied an alias that Ducos would recognise if the name were mentioned. "Je souhaite demander le parole." He repeated the petition yet again.
</p>
<p> Navarre studied the young man standing in front of him. {Granted.} He finally decided. If fate wanted to drop an English Colonel in Etienne's lap he had to accept the bonus, although one part of his mind was furiously considering the possible reasons behind the appearance. British officers, especially Colonels, shouldn't be wandering about in disputed territory alone and without reason. Not prepared to squander any source of possible answers, Navarre looked about for Ducos' agent. {Where's Sergeant Malais?} He questioned Moncrieff. Maybe the brute knew something useful about covert activity hereabouts.
</p>
<p> Aleksandr rocked back on his heels, wrapping his arms around his chest. His body visibly collapsed in on itself and he had to bite back a squeak of surprise. Luckily, the soldiers didn't seem to notice Alek's distress.
</p>
<p> {He's left Sir.} Moncrieff explained. {The Sergeant took his two... aides... and two of our regulars, Vinay and Beaulac. They headed out to forage as soon as it was light enough to see.} He was decidedly uncomfortable being the one to inform his commander of the absence. Most of the men suspected that the expedition was without the Major's consent. Considering the way the Major's teeth were now grinding together that was a fair bet.
</p>
<p> {Foraging... } Navarre echoed, keeping a precarious hold on his temper. He ought to string that hulking beast up for desertion, and the fools that Malais had taken along as well. The French army could do well without that sort of rabble giving proper soldiers a bad name. If Ducos weren't involved Etienne would have flogged Malais and his cronies into submission then sent them back to Paris in chains by now. {Damn the man.} The Major grumbled to himself. His gaze landed on the Brit once more. {Why are you here, Colonel?} Etienne asked, not expecting anything terribly useful out of the younger man.
</p>
<p> Aleksandr allowed himself license to scrub wearily at the bridge of his nose. {I'm tired.} If he wanted to hold onto the pretence of his borrowed rank and nationality he didn't dare provide any useful information to this Major. {I'm lost.} The Russian added. The ironic truth behind those statements almost choked him.
</p>
<p> Navarre's head tipped, studying the captive. He was surprised at how intensely the Colonel seemed to speak those two simple statements. {Where is your company?} 
</p>
<p> {Somewhere. Not here.} Aleksandr shrugged. {You must realise that I can't tell you anything Major.} He stated. {I would like to sit down. I really am exhausted.}
</p>
<p> "Oui. Certainement." Etienne allowed. {Sergeant Moncrieff, see the Colonel is settled over by my tent.} The unspoken command was to stand watch over the prisoner.
</p>
<p> Alek followed the Frenchmen. "As if I couldn't find my way alone." It was the only tent in the entire site. He dropped gratefully down to the damp ground. His attention drifted back to the Major as if pulled by a magnet. Oddly enough, there was a superficial resemblance to Major Sharpe in this French officer. This one was a bit younger and not so roughly used but he had the same blonde, angular attractiveness and air of integrity. His bearing had an aristocratic manner about it. That further distanced him from the plainspoken Englishman. 
</p>
<p> Aleksandr looked up at his guard. "Sergeant, ce qui est le nom du commandant?"
</p>
<p> With only the briefest of grimace of delay he supplied the information. {That's Major Navarre, one of the finest officers in the whole of the Emperor's army.}
</p>
<p> Aleksandr nodded, wracking his brain for any information on that surname. His head was stuffed with thousands of titbits and snatches of casual conversation. {Would that be Etienne or Urbain Navarre?} Three other possibilities were already disregarded due to the uniform and age of the other man.
</p>
<p> The question drew another suspicious look from Moncrieff. {Major Etienne Navarre.} Came the reluctant response. The soldier grew even more apprehensive as he observed the intense gaze the spy fixed on the officer.
</p>
<p> Aleksandr nodded to himself, watching the handsome Major issue orders in low, urgent tones. The soldiers obeyed hurriedly, moving immediately when Navarre's fingers gestured, stabbing the air. The Russian's mind worked, searching out any cached memories attached to Major Navarre. The man had been quite the war hero in Austria, making a name for himself at Wagram among other decisive battles. The Navarre family had money, a reasonably famous winery, and all the right connections. His cousin, Urbain Navarre, was rumoured to be only steps away from the General staff. So what was a rising star like Etienne doing out in Spanish no-man's land as a mere Major? 
</p>
<p> Aleksandr continued to study his new mark. He was aware of the Sergeant's frown of annoyance but dismissed the disapproval as unimportant. Finally the memory clicked into place. "Mercy me. Oh Mama, thank you." That's where he recalled hearing about Etienne Navarre... Alek had been eavesdropping on one of Ducos private conferences. He committed the stunt whenever possible during his brief stays near the spymaster. It was a dangerous but incredibly useful exploit. Major Etienne Navarre was firmly trapped under Ducos thumb after the spymaster had unearthed a sexual liaison the Major had with a Sergeant Armand Renault. The situation would absolutely desolate Navarre's parents since he was an only child and the sole hope of providing grandchildren. It would also outrage the Major's superiors on several levels. A lion's share of the trouble would have come from the fact that Renault had been a recently promoted subordinate, promoted by Navarre of course. None of that made the Major into Ducos' creature, not to the same level Alek was... but it was enough to keep Navarre accepting the spymaster's unsavoury orders without balking. 
</p>
<p> Aleksandr's first reaction to the memory was to glance at Moncrieff. The Russian was usually able to pick out men who were open to his advances without any trouble and this Sergeant didn't strike him that way. The Major wouldn't be so foolish as to make the same mistake twice either. 
</p>
<p> Eventually Etienne paced his way over to where Aleksandr was seated. {I was just about to eat. I'm sure there's enough to share. Will you join me Colonel?}
</p>
<p> "Oui. Merci." Alek responded wearily.
</p>
<p> {A small portion of my unit... } Etienne considered. {... has to be collected. I'm afraid I won't be able to allow you much time to rest.} Navarre observed that the young Colonel looked absolutely exhausted. Dark smudges underscored the pair of startling green eyes that looked up at him.
</p>
<p> {I'll take what I can get.} Alek murmured. He flexed his legs straight, massaging them absently.
</p>
<p> Etienne stared at his prisoner. The thought had occurred to him that this could be Krycek, the spy that Malais was waiting on. That would certainly explain the man's sudden appearance and the surrender. {Where's your rifle, Colonel? Your sword? Your horse?}
</p>
<p> {A situation that I'm not at liberty to explain forced me to part company with all of those things.} Aleksandr hedged. {I regret the loss of my mount the most. It's made for a hard night's travel.} He stretched expansively once before leaning back slightly to rest on his hands and arms. A slight head movement flopped his untidy bangs forward. Dark jade eyes went innocently wide and long lashes batted, very discreetly.  Aleksandr smoothed his face into youthful harmlessness and his posture loosened. {When will we be moving out to... collect...  your absent members, Major Navarre?}
</p>
<p> The young man had the kind of smoky warm voice that made Etienne think of sweat-slick, tangled sheets. Distracted with that intriguing voice and the way the Englishman had absently laid himself out for display, the Major didn't respond promptly to the question. It wasn't until he noticed the other's expectant expression that Etienne finally answered. {Long enough to eat... and I'll have Danton put some water on to heat. No offence, Colonel Alexander, but you do look a little worse for wear.} His brow furrowed as he continued to look at the other. {Your French is flawless.}
</p>
<p> {Too much education and not enough woodcraft.} Alek laughed. {Pity my tutor couldn't see into the future. Last night I would rather have know how to navigate by starlight rather than how to read Latin. Still, I survived and located you. This is the first step to being returned to civilisation, is it not? Might I ask where and to whom you intend to hand me over?}
</p>
<p> Navarre frowned, still uncertain of his own plans. His mission was to keep patrolling for the Warrior Princess but the British Colonel needed to be turned over to Major Ducos. He could dispatch Malais and his two men with the Colonel, but they were hardly an appropriate escort for this prisoner and they had their own orders. There was no way that Navarre was going to splinter his own men. That would be an invitation to slaughter. The remaining option seemed to be that Etienne and the entire column take the Brit in before returning to the border. With luck they would come back to find Sergeant Malais killed by their partisan target and they could trail 'La Princesa' from the scene.
</p>
<p> {Major Navarre?} Alek prompted.
</p>
<p> {We will be taking you to a castle... not so far away. I'm sure the commander there will see to ransoming you.}
</p>
<p> One shoulder lifted negligently. {No hurry.} Aleksandr offered up a suggestive smile. A plan was beginning to crystallise in the back of the spy's mind. If this Major could be somehow convinced to dispose of Malais and then Alek could slip away...  The Russian had never operated on this loose a leash before. Usually he either had a strict timetable to adhere to or Malais was within striking distance of himself or, more dangerously, his family. There was an excellent chance that Aleksandr could make it to Paris and liberate Tatyana and Dimitri before Ducos gave up on Alek and ordered them killed. The only question remaining was where would he take them. That was a monumental problem all it's own. A bowl full of some kind of porridge was thrust down at Aleksandr by a soldier, interrupting his ruminations.
</p>
<p> {Where are you from Colonel?} Navarre accepted his own breakfast with an absent nod of thanks.
</p>
<p> {London.} Alek chose one of the few places in England that he actually had a working knowledge of. {I think I have you at a disadvantage, Major Navarre.} He turned the focus back at the Frenchmen. {The fame of the winery that your family owns... it precedes you... as do your exploits in Austria. At least I suspect you are THAT Etienne Navarre.} Aleksandr decided the look of surprise on the older man's face suited him. It took away the annoyed lines about his mouth and eyes.
</p>
<p> Navarre found his throat dried out. He had to clear it before speaking. {I wasn't aware my career held any interest for the average English officer.}
</p>
<p> The Russian paused thoughtfully. {A man can admire the tactics of an opponent while still holding his own opinion of the politics of the greater conflict. You were invaluable to your side in Austria. Your manoeuvres were so elegant... a minimal loss of life, on both sides, for a maximum gain. You seem to understand that you can't possess a thing if it's destroyed in the battle for ownership. That's something too many people fail to grasp.}
</p>
<p> Etienne felt a flush of pleasure at the compliment that the foreign Colonel had not only noticed, but admired his choices. After constantly being sent out into the field with only common soldiers for company the attention of an attractive, intelligent, fellow officer cut him right to the quick. Colonel Alexander was easy on the eyes too, graceful and lean, with almost pretty... vaguely elfin features. Strangely enough the fact that he was run down and grubby about the edges only added to his charm, giving him a certain vulnerability.
</p>
<p> Navarre practically tossed aside the bowl he held in his hurry to stand up. Letting his thoughts wander in that direction was just plain dangerous. {I'll see to Danton... get him moving.} The excuse was lame but Etienne needed distance right now. Besides which, a part of his mind that Navarre didn't dare let loose was wondering how far the Brit would strip down if offered the chance to clean up. "Excusez moi." 
</p>
<p> Only the presence of Sergeant Moncrieff stopped Aleksandr from laughing aloud. "It's my lucky month, right Mama?"
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <a id="notes" name="notes"></a>
</p>
<table> <tbody>
<tr><td> 
August 1999
<br/> THE FULL DISCLAIMER LIST IS AT THE BEGINNING OF CHAPTER I. Please go and check out all the warnings if you're a sensitive reader
<br/> Ownership: The characters from Xena: Warrior Princess, the X-files and Sharpe are not ours. We're making no profit.
<br/> Violence, language and sexual content: a strong PG... this contains f/f, f/m, and m/m sexual relationships.
<br/> If any of this offends you, or if you are underage, or it's illegal where you live... please, stop reading now.
<br/> Notes: We now have a Beta reader (yay!). Thank you for your help, mouse. With you on board we can now blame someone else for our mistakes. "BG"
<br/> We're still looking for feedback. We will try to get the chapters out a little faster now that there are other places willing to post it. Let us know what you think of our story, please. Contact us at: [email removed] 
<br/>Other websites—[broken link removed] 
</td></tr>
</tbody>
</table>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Our story is set during the Napoleonic wars as illustrated by Bernard Cornwell in his series of 'Sharpe' books and the subsequent TV movies. As our tale begins the British forces are pushing the French out of Spain. Richard Sharpe is now a Major and has been recently widowed. Xena, because of the ambrosia she consumed (Episode: The Quest), is immortal and has been travelling the world for two thousand years since the death of her soulmate, Gabrielle.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/><b>La Princesa Guerrera VI<br/>by Carla Jane and Jim</b>
</p>
<p><br/><br/>
<i>GABRIELLE: "I miss her. There are so many things that I wish I could tell her... I would have told her how empty my life was before she came, and all the lessons I've learned, and that I love her."</i>
</p>
<p>Morning found Fox Mulder attempting to follow through on his intentions of the night before. He stifled the urge to concentrate solely on Gabrielle and valiantly attempted to cut back on the amount of time he spent ranging off and ahead. Granted, walking with the two women was a bit more comfortable than the awkward breakfast they had shared. It was easier for him to comment on their path than the bland food the inn had provided.
</p>
<p>Dana kept shooting him shy sideways glances that dropped to the hard-packed dirt whenever he attempted to meet her eyes. They were stumbling over the walls that had grown up between them over the last two days. Mulder couldn't shake the feeling that every sentence he spoke aloud should be prefaced with an apology.
</p>
<p>By contrast, Dana and Gabrielle seemed as relaxed with each other as friends from childhood. The blonde got the Irish woman giggling with some improbable tale of a woman, her dim male companion and an enchanted scroll. Both Gabrielle's fluid storytelling and Dana's breathless laughter cut Fox to the bone. He suffered under the intoxicating torment for as long as he could then, with an excuse about their safety being at risk, Mulder left the road and their company.
</p>
<p>Gabrielle's story faded out without a proper ending not long after Fox left them. She realised that she had lost her friend's attention.
</p>
<p>Blue eyes watched the distant smear of buckskin that was William Mulder until the scenery swallowed him up. "He's different today." Dana finally commented. "A bit edgy, but definitely nicer."
</p>
<p>"Last night..." Gabrielle observed. "It knocked him for a loop. He's trying to find his balance again." She smiled at the pleasant change in both her companions today. "I can see the two of you getting together. There's a tangle of energy between you, karma... a connection."
</p>
<p>"I'd like to believe that." Dana let out a gusty sigh. "What was it like for you?" Gabrielle spoke of love and soulmates like a woman with experience. Perhaps by comparing their two relationships Dana could decide how serious her attraction was to Fox.
</p>
<p>The Bard's breath escaped with a laugh. She looked up at the clouds skittering across the sky. "I can see so many parallels between us all. Between Fox and Xena, between you and I, even between Xena then and myself now." Gabrielle began. "If you're asking me if it was love at first sight, well, it probably was, but I wasn't mature enough to recognise it as that." The memory of that time curved her soft lips into a smile. "Xena was in the middle of a personal crisis of sorts. Her entire concept of her place in the world had been tipped on it's side."
</p>
<p>Dana nodded in understanding. "I think I can sympathise."
</p>
<p>Gabrielle's gaze drifted along the horizon. "On my side of things... well. My first reaction was a weird mixture of wanting to get away from where I was and recognition of a spark between us. I suppose I could have gone off alone, but what I really wanted was to travel beside this amazing woman. Oh Dana, it's probably hard for you to imagine, but meeting her was a revelation. It opened my eyes to possibilities that had been hidden from me my whole life. That a woman could be so strong and self-sufficient... that I could find myself physically reacting to her the way I did." She chuckled. "Needless to say, Xena told me flat out to stay home. She thought her path was little too dark to share with such as me."
</p>
<p>One ginger brow lifted. "Somehow I can't see you taking that very well." Dana observed.
</p>
<p>"Oh, I was much sweeter in my youth." Gabrielle said sarcastically. "Of course, I followed her anyway."
</p>
<p>"Sounds familiar."
</p>
<p>"Doesn't it just." The bard grinned. "What she felt for me... Gods. I got tolerance and then a sort of grudging respect for my persistence. She's always been a tough nut to crack. I found out later that Xena was being rocked by some fairly potent emotions concerning me... but she hid her struggle so well." Golden hair shook. "I... the better I got to know the real Xena... I went from infatuation to honest admiration pretty quickly." Gabrielle admitted. "And love came fast on it's heels." The blonde paused briefly. "The thing is... Xena has a dark core that has always frightened me... but her constant state of conflict with it is riveting. What's more, no one else seemed to notice it about her. Eventually I realised that I was the only one close enough to Xena to interpret the subtle play of expressions across her face... the only one she would allow to get that close. You can't imagine how heady a sensation it is, to be the only person that holds the trust of someone like Xena." Gabrielle pursed her lips. "The bard in me doesn't want to admit it, but mere words aren't sufficient sometimes. To say that I love her isn't enough. That simple phrase isn't nearly adequate to convey the depth of the binding that holds us together."
</p>
<p>A reverent hush lingered between them for several breaths before Dana's question filled the gap. "When exactly did you realise it was forever?"
</p>
<p>The blonde couldn't help but smirk at the irony of those words. " One day I looked over at her and... By the Gods. There came a point where the thought of being apart from her... of living without her at my side... struck me as intolerable. I didn't care about the darkness in her, or what she'd done in the past. The future, our future together eclipsed everything." A dreamy smile played across her pale pink mouth. "A feeling of utter belonging gripped me. Some part of my soul that I hadn't realised was missing returned to me."
</p>
<p>Dana's expression was envious.
</p>
<p>"When we were first separated I though my heart would break from missing her touch." Gabrielle continued. "I was also terrified at what the division would do to her. If it would destroy all the growth she'd gone through? The only thing that stopped me from going crazy was the realisation of how strong our connection really was... that on the most spiritual level we were still together. Most of the time Xena has managed to hold on to the goodness that she worked so hard to achieve."
</p>
<p>Dana, sensing some deeper truth hiding behind her friend's words, repeated a question from the night before. "How long have you been apart?"
</p>
<p>Her eyes closed briefly against the pain. "Far too long. I should have come sooner. If only I'd realised how simple crossing over was... not that it was easy... but in the grand scheme of things... " The statement trailed off.
</p>
<p>"So... you've been in another country?" Dana tried to clarify the odd discourse.
</p>
<p>"You could say that." The bard's smile was sly. "Lately I've come from Greece." She allowed. "Returning to Xena has taken longer than I expected it would."
</p>
<p>The Irish woman grimaced playfully. "I don't know about you Gabrielle. Sometimes you talk as if you're as old as my Granny, but you can't be much older than me."
</p>
<p>"Appearances deceive, Dana." The blonde countered. "I'm much older than I look."
</p>
<p>"At the absolute outside you're nigh past twenty-six." Dana studied her companion as they walked. "And my guess would be closer on twenty-three. By the Sidhe, Gabrielle, but you do confound me in some ways."
</p>
<p>"It's my bardic mystic. I work hard to keep my audience on their toes." She snickered.
</p>
<p>A sudden flight of birds taking to the wing in the trees ahead of them silenced the pair temporarily. Gabrielle's grip on her staff shifted absently as she studied their surroundings, her fingers playing up and down the smooth wood.
</p>
<p>Dana was distracted, watching as a bead of sweat trickled it's way down her friend's neck and collarbones until it disappeared into Gabrielle's cleavage. [Focus. You silly fool.] Dana scolded herself, turning her eyes outward. "Is it trouble?"
</p>
<p>"Fox spooked them." The bard slowly relaxed back into a looser pace pleased that she had concluded the cause of the disturbance so easily, that her woodcraft hadn't dulled. She shifted the subject to one that had been pricking at the back corner of her mind. There was a chance that the British patrol would find Xena first. Gabrielle couldn't help but wonder what her lover was up against. "The English soldiers that are looking for Xena, Major Sharpe and his lot, what do you think of them, Dana?"
</p>
<p>Fingers bunched into the dark fabric of her borrowed rifleman's jacket and tugged it straight. A hint of pink, not caused by the sun, tinted Dana's cheeks. "I didn't have a chance to spend as much time in the Major's company as I might of liked." She admitted. "And I was in a rather preoccupied state... over my coming meeting with William."
</p>
<p>"But?" Gabrielle's voice lifted teasingly.
</p>
<p>"Well." Dana's shoulders shifted. "Patrick Harper has to be one of the sweetest men I've come across since setting out on my journey."
</p>
<p>"Sharpe's Sergeant, you mean?"
</p>
<p>Sunlight glinted off drooping, copper curls as she nodded. "He's been kind to me from the moment we met, so polite and considerate." Dana elaborated. "He asked for news of home then later that evening Pat invited me over to the chosen men's fire so I could hear the music. Patrick has this whistle pipe." Her fingers flicked in illustration. "And one of the men, Mr Hagman I think, was singing. I got a glare that would sour milk from Colonel Rickman's wife for going." A trill of laughter bubbled up. "But it was scads more fun than sitting about while she whined about her fertility problems."
</p>
<p>Gabrielle chuckled softly at the look of distaste on her friend's face.
</p>
<p>"Anyway, between the trip to camp and my time with Ramona and the babe I think I've gotten a fair picture of Patrick Harper. He's as honest as the day is long and an absolute hawk about protecting those he holds dear." Dana blushed slightly. "He's grievous handsome too, a right powerful temptation to amoral thoughts." She admitted. "Strong, broad shoulders and the Devil's own smile."
</p>
<p>"Why Dana!" Gabrielle feigned shock. "Almost married women are not even supposed to notice other men." She teased.
</p>
<p>Small shoulders shrugged. "You'll see." She announced securely. "And Major Sharpe's naught to sneeze at either, though he's a bit spare in the face. My Mam would be wanting to feed him up if she ever set eyes on the Major." Dana wiped a sleeve across her face to sop up some of the sweat. She had to change the subject. It was bad enough that sexual temptation walked at her side. Dana didn't need visions of attractive men tormenting her too. Between the thoughts churning up in her head and the heat outside, she was starting to simmer uncomfortably. "How long a walk do we have ahead of us?"
</p>
<p>"Not too brutal a hike." Gabrielle assured. "We're aiming for a town that Xena was seen in just two or three days ago. With luck she's still in the general area." The Bard turned serious green eyes on her companion. "We're also headed right into heavily disputed territory so you need to keep your wits about you Dana. If we run into trouble you stay at my back. All right?"
</p>
<p>"I understand." The redhead swallowed, tasting grit. "I know enough to let you and Fox work without getting underfoot... but... I can fire a gun, Gabrielle. I did at home, so if we were to get pinned down I'll use a pistol. Just so you know." Dana watched as Gabrielle grinned. The pleased expression lit up the blonde's face like the sun cresting the horizon. Dana's breath actually hitched in arousal at the view. She wet dry lips and looked away, fumbling after her canteen. Dana babbled. "I did a lot of things at home that most ladies of my station... my family has the blood, the property, but actual money was in short supply." She coughed. "Da let me run a bit wild I suppose. That's one of the reasons I've been hooked up with Fox and not someone local." The colour was high in her cheeks. Dana pressed her lips together tightly to stem the flow of chatter.
</p>
<p>"Are you okay, Dana?" The blonde's head cocked to one side.
</p>
<p>"I'm warm." She fudged the truth, taking a sip of water. "It's been a strange week. I thought this trip, coming to Spain... getting married... would be fairly straightforward but I've never encountered so many... distractions and sidepaths... before. At times I don't know whether I can't wait to get home or if I never want this to end."
</p>
<p>Gabrielle nodded. "I can relate. Back when Xena and I were travelling together the mood to settle would occasionally strike one or the other of us." It was hard to compress all those years into a timeline Dana would be able to accept. "We did settle, for a while. I thought Xena would be the one to chafe under the sameness but it turned out that I was the one who missed the road more intensely." Her tone brightened. "I suppose I missed my audience. What can I say, I've the heart of a performer. I like being the centre of attention."
</p>
<p>Dana smirked. She couldn't imagine a situation where the beautiful blonde wasn't the focal point of all onlookers. "Good thing."
</p>
<p>Gabrielle shot a look of amusement sideways at her companion. "And what is that tone of voice supposed to indicate, young lady?" She asked in a heavily put on accent.
</p>
<p>The Irish woman simply laughed. A movement up ahead caught her eye and one hand lifted to point. "It appears as if Fox has cornered some poor traveller. You'd best get up there before he manages to offend the man by asking after the boils on his bottom or some such nonsense." Fox's grasp of the Spanish language was disturbingly erratic and he tended to mangle it with every second sentence.
</p>
<p>They picked up their pace to reach the pair. By the time Gabrielle arrived at Mulder's side the Canadian was already shaking his head in confusion and asking the Spaniard to speak slower.
</p>
<p>The Bard jumped into the conversation, asking after any soldiers or fighting in the area. Considering the pot and utensil laden wagon the man's donkey was pulling, he most likely went town to town doing repairs and would have a fair idea of the situation. Fox's forehead creased as he attempted to follow the rapid stream of questions and answers.
</p>
<p>"He said something about fires, that I didn't understand." Fox coached. "Ask him about that."
</p>
<p>Dana, who had trailed slightly behind, eased up beside her fiancee. Her gaze drifted past the tinker to his heaped cart.
</p>
<p>The man stared at the uniform clad young woman and gestured at her, speaking even more quickly than before. His arms waved, as if shooing them back the way they came.
</p>
<p>Gabrielle spared Dana and Fox a brief glance then concentrated on what the traveller was saying to her. She smiled, encouraging the man to tell her more. After a few minutes of talking she thanked the man and indicated that her companions should continue on down the road. "Gracias." The blonde thanked him one more time before joining her friends. "The French are causing a lot of trouble exactly where we've been directed. They might be trying to precipitate some kind of conflict with Xena. We're going the right way."
</p>
<p>"Are there any British soldiers about?" Fox asked.
</p>
<p>The Bard nodded. "The priest two villages back told him... " She flicked a hand backwards to indicate the tinker. "... to pass along warning to anyone he came across, locals and transients alike, that they'd best keep away or be extra careful. Several small groups of soldiers are prowling about... at least one of them were in rifleman green." Like Dana wore, considering his gestures.
</p>
<p>"What was that about the French and fire?" Mulder had caught snatches, but nothing that had much meaning.
</p>
<p>"The French have been looting." Gabrielle shook her head. "And burning the farms behind them." Her upper lip curled. "A lot of women have been... badly abused and some men have been murdered for sport. He suggested we go back where we came from."
</p>
<p>Dana shivered slightly, staring down at the road to hide the trepidation Gabrielle's words sparked in her. Much to her surprise Fox noticed and his hand brushed almost absently across her shoulder, a soothing gesture.
</p>
<p>"I should stay closer to you two from here on in." Mulder reasoned. "Do you... " He hesitated, reconsidering his words before they escaped. " Do either of you want my pistol? I'm better with my rifle anyway."
</p>
<p>His offer caught both women by surprise. "Give it to Dana." Gabrielle jumped in quickly.
</p>
<p>"Thank you, but, no thank you." Dana declined. "I have one already." She blushed at their surprised attention. "I took it from the bandit last night. I thought... He didn't need it any more."
</p>
<p>"Sensible." Gabrielle commented with a grin.
</p>
<p>"Very... " Mulder seconded in a low murmur. "But, I think I'd feel better if you took mine and gave me the thief's. We don't know how well he took care of it."
</p>
<p>Dana dug the other out of her pack and offered it up.
</p>
<p>Fox moved in a faintly halting manner, but he did take his pistol from his belt and trade gravely with his fiancee. "It's already loaded. Do you need instructions, or are you familiar with... this kind of gun?" Restraint and a certain amount of admiration tinted his voice. He frowned down at the pistol she had given him. It would need cleaning, and perhaps a little bit of maintenance.
</p>
<p>Dana looked William's weapon over. "I can handle this, no problem. It's fair close to the one I used at home. Thank you Fox."
</p>
<p>He inclined his head. "What sort of shooting did you do at home?"
</p>
<p>"Mostly targets with the pistol. I shot rabbits and gophers with my rifle." The redhead provided. "It kept them out of the gardens and helped fill the dinner pot. Da taught me to shoot when I was about eight. Once, my friend Sean Pendrell took me along on a fox hunt with some of the local nobles." A smile couldn't help but break out on her face. "But that was a silly bit of business, all those horses and hounds... " She shrugged.
</p>
<p>"Fox hunting?" Mulder repeated with chuckle. "On horseback? That's no way to catch a fox. They take a far more subtle approach. You need to outwit them, trick them into a trap... at least if you want to salvage a decent pelt out of the animal." His hazel-blue eyes twinkled with mischief.
</p>
<p>Dana grinned right back at him. "I defer to the expert."
</p>
<p>Gabrielle distanced herself slightly from the couple so they could talk. She appeared to watch the surrounding countryside, while keeping a tendril of attention on the pair. A feeling a smug satisfaction was just beginning to wrap around her.
</p>
<hr/>
<p><i>SHARPE: "Could you just wave in the general direction of the French, Sir."</i>
</p>
<p>Most of the time Francois Malais enjoyed his job. The best thing about working for Ducos was that he could do whatever he wanted with little fear of punishment as long as the spymaster's jobs were completed satisfactorily. Not even Malais' so-called 'superior' officers had the balls to object to anything Pierre Ducos put his approval on.
</p>
<p>Francois grinned to himself. He could just picture the look on Major Navarre's pinched face when the little prig found out about this morning's excursion. Bringing along two of Navarre's uptight band had added sauce to the defiance. Still, those two had whined about Malais' amusements so they were best off dispatched back to camp as a rub in the nose to the Major.
</p>
<p>The Sergeant scratched absently at an itch behind his ear. The first farm they had raided had been mildly entertaining but something was missing. Feeling the life draining away from his victims beneath his fingers had fired up his passions and the withered old woman wasn't proper meat for a man of his appetites. In fact very few of the pickings around here had been worth the time it took to drop his trousers. Wasn't that always the way? He could either indulge in his lust for destruction out here on the lines or enjoy plump soft bodies back in the city where killing the sluts afterwards was discouraged.
</p>
<p>The marching was tedious too. As if some Spanish tart with delusions of grandeur was worth all this fuss and bother. If Navarre were any kind of man he would have chased the whore down and taught the tramp her place by now. Still, what could you expect from a sissy-boy. Yeah, Francois knew about the Major's taste for men. Just let that pasty faced excuse for an officer try something around me, the Sergeant thought gleefully, and I'll smash his head in. With enough provocation, witnesses and Ducos' backing Francois was sure he could get away with the offence. Maybe he should have his field mouse come on to the Major then start screaming in the middle of it. Christ, that'd be worth a chuckle.
</p>
<p>Pity they couldn't spare the time. The little punk was already taking too long on this assignment. Ducos wanted intelligence on the Brits and Francois' only obligation these days was to keep the spymaster happy. If Krycek didn't bring back something spectacular enough to make all this aggravation worth it then Malais intended to take his revenge on the boy's hide.
</p>
<p>The French Sergeant cursed to himself, startling the two men walking on either side.
</p>
<p>{Qu' est-ce qu'il y a?} Arsene questioned cautiously after the source of his commander's sudden annoyance. An unhappy Malais was a frightening thing.
</p>
<p>"I'm thinking! Mind the road." Francois growled. His dirt-rat was getting more uppity every year. Malais needed to come up with another service he could provide for Ducos so the next time he felt like crushing the little bastard's head... he could.
</p>
<p>In a dark corner of the Sergeant's mind an unacknowledged anxiety was hiding... influencing his behaviour. Krycek was no longer the sheltered scholar Francois had unearthed six years ago but rather a trained killer in the prime of life. Sooner or later the Russian was going to realise it. Each time they crossed paths lately Malais felt the need to reduce the spy to a screaming ruin to keep that revelation from either of them.
</p>
<p>"I need to kill something." Francois snarled aloud. Preferably a young girl who grovelled and quaked as he ground the life out of her wide eyes. The boy at the last farm had died too quickly. The old woman hadn't seemed to suffer enough. "Someone with a healthy voice."
</p>
<p>Guillaume handled his musket restlessly. He and Arsene exchanged a loaded look. There had better be at least one pretty woman and hopefully some children at the next farm or Malais was going to drag them to a third. They'd only been hanging about with the Sergeant for a few months now but they knew what that particular expression meant.
</p>
<p>[I could break a finger or two.] Francois pondered his problem further. That tactic had rattled Krycek in the past and it hadn't roused Ducos' ire. Malais couldn't help but wonder if cutting one off would be allowed. The littlest fingers weren't required to work a lockpick. He made a mental note to try out the idea on one of the people at the next farm so he could test out methods of closing the wound afterwards. Francois also wanted to see if his belt-knife could do the job neatly enough so he had best use a woman as a sample. The dirt-rat's hands weren't very big.
</p>
<p>"I hear something." Arsene announced softly, pointing into the scrub that lined the road.
</p>
<p>"Probably rabbits." Francois grouched. "What are you afraid of? Some sword wielding slut who thinks she's a Princess? Bring her on I say." He boasted. "The last bitch who tried to fight me off is rotting in a ditch and I'll serve this one up some of the same. Maybe if she's not a complete pig-face I'll do her the favour of a fuck before I haul her in by the hair." Malais grinned. That was just the thing. Taking out this 'Princesa' would certainly buy him some gratitude from Ducos. Perhaps it would be enough to rate taking Francois' pet out of action for a month or two. With that much time to heal Malais could smash the smirk off that whore's face so hard that he wouldn't dare to so much as look his handler in the eye for the next year.
</p>
<p>"How much further?" The Sergeant asked, satisfaction bubbling up inside him once more. "I'm in the mood for something sweet and tasty."
</p>
<hr/>
<p><i>XENA: "It's not about me. It's about these people. That's why we're here. People like this used to be my victims. I keep that in mind every time we come up against a warlord like Talmadeus. It's the greater good. Remember that."</i>
</p>
<p>The immortal adjusted her hood minutely, making sure it was far enough forward to disguise her face without interfering with her ability to assess the area for threats. The horse under her occasionally started at shadows so she had to keep a firm hold on the reins. It had grown accustomed to her nocturnal ways and was having trouble adjusting to the full, harsh light of mid-day again.
</p>
<p>A country road cut in front of her, stopping her in her tracks and presenting several choices. Xena levelled a considering gaze down either direction the rutted road ran, then across into the next clump of concealing brush. She'd travelled this way several times before and had a rough idea what lay in all about her. Almost as an afterthought she glanced back the way she had come.
</p>
<p>The horse shifted impatiently, waiting to given a clear indication of direction. "I know just how you feel, girl." Xena whispered, patting the warm, broad neck. [I need to chase that lot of Brits down and let them know about the French column tromping about... so they can take care of the problem.&gt; She considered. [Then I'll pull back for a while.]
</p>
<p>Her upper lip curled, recalling some of the more loathsome depredations she'd come across or heard described concerning the French in this area. [I almost think I should take on one more batch of scoundrels, beloved. There's no way proper English soldiers will dole out the kind of retribution that these bastards have earned.] Xena concluded. [This lot have been rather nasty... but I know I promised you I was going to pull back and reconsider. Really. At least I'll try.] She added on at the end, aware that her intentions weren't as sincere as they could have been. Every hour that passed picked away at her earlier decision.
</p>
<p>Xena positioned herself on the map inside her mind. [There's a couple of out of the way farms down that way.] She glanced to the right. A quick stop for re-supplying and information trading would be just the thing. Perhaps Sharpe's lot had already come through this way. Since the road looked so lightly travelled the warrior decided to chance using it.
</p>
<p>A faint smudge of smoke against the harsh blue of the sky brought a worried frown to her face. Xena clicked her tongue and urged her mount into a quicker walk. A few minutes ride brought her in sight of what had been a neat little farmhouse just yesterday. It more closely resembled the aftermath of a battleground now.
</p>
<p>The buildings smouldered sullenly, spreading a haze all about the area. Farm tools and household goods were scattered about haphazardly. Some were broken, but most had just been tossed aside as if considered useless.
</p>
<p>Xena drew her mare to an abrupt stop as she came upon the first body. She knelt down on the damp, scarlet stained ground. The food she had in her stomach attempted to force it's way back up her throat.
</p>
<p>What looked like a crippling wound near the young man's hip must have been what had taken him down but it wasn't the cause of death. Blood gouges testified where the assailant had gripped the young man's chin and jaw. A large hand had dug into the face of the now ruined head and bashed it into the hard dirt enough times to cave in the skull. A red smear marked the exact place.
</p>
<p>{Gods.} Xena hissed out in a form of Greek she hadn't used in nearly two thousand years. The perpetrator of this death was a savage. She stood slowly, dreading what was ahead.
</p>
<p>The next man had died a slightly cleaner death. Two shots had stopped this one, the first in the chest and the other in the lower ribs. A pitchfork near one limp arm suggested a feeble attempt at defence.
</p>
<p>The wind tossed a thick gout of greasy smoke in Xena's face, choking her. The weak bleat of a wounded animal sounded from behind the ruin of an outbuilding.
</p>
<p>Her mount was twitching, threatening to bolt from the stink of blood and smoke. She grabbed after the halter then tied the reins to an overturned wheelbarrow that wasn't too close to either of the bodies. "Easy girl." The soothing Spanish seemed to calm the beast slightly. "The bastards seem to be gone." She would examine the torn up yard soon enough. First Xena had to check for survivors, however unlikely.
</p>
<p>Two more still forms were tossed to the ground near the well. The parents, the warrior guessed, considering the age of the man and woman.
</p>
<p>The man was trussed up with his arms secure behind his back. Dirty boot-marks, spectacular bruising and bits of bone piercing up through puffy skin suggested that he had endured agony before death took him.
</p>
<p>Xena closed the swollen eyelids, finding the warmth hadn't left the poor man yet. So he had either laid here, dying by inches for a long time...or the animals that had done this had only recently left.
</p>
<p>She turned to the elderly woman finally. A mask of pure rage had hardened her features but still Xena's mouth tightened at this last indecency. The old lady's clothing had been torn away through brute force, exposing the frail body. For the second time Xena found a mutilated face and the flattened wreck of a human head. This time one of the eye sockets had served as a gripping point.
</p>
<p>[Barbarians!] Her mind screamed even as her face froze into an expression of utter contempt. [Pitiful excuses for soldiers! They aren't fit for anything but maggot meat.] Xena raged internally. [You see what I'm up against. Savages!] She rose up, sweeping the area with eyes that burned hotter than the fires about her. [I'll kill them all.] She vowed. [I'll see the crows feasting on their leader's eyes.]
</p>
<p>Xena searched the rest of the farm with brutal efficiency but found no more bodies, only smashed possessions and mindless destruction. Most of the livestock were gone and what she could see of the buildings suggested they had been ransacked. Eventually she circled back around to the gore-spattered yard.
</p>
<p>Placing her feet carefully, Xena walked about examining the rutted and scuffed dirt. The most tell-tale evidence was at the edge of the actual yard. It appeared that the raiders had split into two groups. A pair of them, loaded down with their plunder, had gone one way with a couple of donkeys. The three remaining marauders had walked off in the opposite direction, completely unencumbered.
</p>
<p>[So who dies first?] Her teeth bared into a smile that had nothing to do with happiness. The burdened pair would be easier to catch but... Xena's pale blue eyes traced the threesome's tracks, pondering what she know of the surrounding area.
</p>
<p>{Dios Santo!} The exclamation was dragged from the depths of her chest. Another farm lay a short distance off in that direction. The family that occupied it was young with a handful of children. The decision became painfully clear.
</p>
<p>Xena lunged for the reins of her horse, almost breaking them in her haste to free the loose knot. The mare was urged into motion before she had even seated herself properly.
</p>
<p>[They haven't been gone from here long.] The angry woman told herself. [And they're on foot.] Her legs squeezed, telling the horse to gallop even faster. Almost instinctively she reached over her shoulder to draw her sword. Xena didn't want the easy death of a pistol ball for these beasts. She needed the satisfaction of feeling their flesh part beneath her blade. Her mind lost clarity of projection in a wash of pure rage. There was no need to think. She didn't have to track in order to follow their route. It was obvious where they were heading.
</p>
<p>Bent low over the neck of her mount, ears straining forward, Xena heard the trouble even before she broke into the clearing of the next farm's property. A shot echoed above the pounding of hooves and screams of fright pinpointed her first targets. Near the barn door the farmer was being knocked to the ground while several children cowered under guard from a second uniformed soldier.
</p>
<p>If a horse charging into their midst didn't catch their attention, Xena's dismount did. In a blur the warrior heaved herself up to her feet on the hard saddle and leapt. The move helped her to avoid the blast from the guarding man's musket.
</p>
<p>Xena landed near the closest of the two soldiers with her swing already beginning. The first four inches of her sword cut a neat diagonal slice right from his shoulder to his hip, spilling the man's insides before he hit the ground. With a grin of triumph Xena spun to meet the second man, who was levelling his bayonet. He charged and she neatly side-stepped the lunge, whirling to slice across the backs of his legs. Some small part of her brain registered the wails of the children nearby but dismissed the sound as unimportant.
</p>
<p>The soldier tripping in front of her flipped over onto his back and attempted to crab-crawl away from her.
</p>
<p>{I've been seeing a lot of your work.} Xena hissed in French. Catching her long sword in a downward grip, she plunged the point through one of his shoulders, pinning him in place. {You are a waste of skin.} Her foot moved to rest between his legs. A bouncing shift put her entire body-weight onto that heel, making the man howl in agony. {Garbage!} She accused. Removing her blade from his shoulder, Xena proceeded to stab down...inflicting hard, random punctures, heedless of the splatters the action tossed up at her.
</p>
<p>{What the hell is going on out here?} A deep French voice demanded.
</p>
<p>The last of the three soldiers emerged from the barn, dragging a half-naked woman by the hair. His Sergeant's jacket hung open and his trouser ties were loose. Xena sized him up with one contemptuous glare. He had no musket or pistol, just a huge knife in the hand not clutching dark, curly hair.
</p>
<p>{Fresh meat.} Malais tossed aside the sagging, whiny creature he held and barred his teeth. This hellcat had killed his men by the looks of things. First he was going to cripple her then he was going to break her into a sobbing heap. Sure she held a sword against his knife but no woman was the match of Francois Malais. He took up a stance. {You want to dance, whore?} The tip of his blade gestured a come-on.
</p>
<p>Xena raised her sword up, sending a spill of blood down the blade to trickle over the hilt. Her eyes narrowed and a war cry threatened at the back of her throat.
</p>
<p>{Come on sweetie.} The Sergeant coaxed. {Let's get this over with and I'll slide you a slab of what you really need...while I smear the insides of that head of yours across the side of the barn.} The thick fingers of his free hand flexed in anticipation of crushing her skull.
</p>
<p>{You...} Xena realised she was facing the one who liked bashing his victims brains out. Her first move was a fleeting slice and retreat, testing him. The tip of her long sword slipped inside his reach, cutting open his black stubbled cheek.
</p>
<p>His attempt at a block had been too low. He had expected a body lunge. {Bitch!} Malais bellowed at the stinging pain. His estimation of his opponent raised. A tall, dark-haired woman with a sword, travelling alone...He realised he had found 'La Princesa Guerrera'. {I'm going to take your head back to Paris in a bag, Princess.}
</p>
<p>{You're going to die slowly, dog.} Xena countered, flashing forward to raise a shallow line of blood across his belly.
</p>
<p>Malais growled, but instead of pushing ahead he dived to one side, scrambling after a musket near the open barn door.
</p>
<p>"NON!" The warrior threw herself after her target, her bloody sword flashing in an arch. The heavy blade came down across the Sergeant's wrist just as he was catching up the gun. His hand and the weapon plopped back down to the rutted dirt. Crimson spurted and the soldier screamed out his disbelief and agony. {Is that the hand you gouged her eye out with, beast?} Xena demanded, landing a solid kick in the blubbering man's ribs. She forced him over onto his back and hacked again before he regroup his senses... taking his other hand. {Or was it that one?} The dripping end of her sword indicated his now truncated left elbow.
</p>
<p>{No! No! I surrender. Stop!} Malais squealed. {Don't kill me.}
</p>
<p>The horror in his expression did nothing to satisfy her bloodlust. Planting her weapon, blade first, into the ground Xena reached down and caught him up by the fabric of his jacket. Three steps brought her captive to a stack of burning grain sacks. His long greasy hair caught flame quickly when she shoved his head into the sullen fire.
</p>
<p>The Sergeant's screams raised an octave and he thrashed in her grip. {MERCY!}
</p>
<p>{I've seen what you've done!} Xena shouted, pulling him back out of the flames and hauling the flailing form back to the barn. His struggles were growing weaker as the blood drained out of his body. {You wanted my attention.} Her rant continued as she scooped up the musket he had been groping after. {Well...you got it.} Xena slammed him up against the inside of the barn door and before he could slump down to the ground, the warrior used the bayonet of the weapon to pin him in place. The pointed metal rod punched through his chest and into the solid wood with a satisfying thunk. {You can die now.} Xena whispered as she watched what little sense he had left fade from his dark eyes.
</p>
<p>With a shivering sigh of pleasure the ancient immortal turned from her kill to check on the welfare of the family she had saved. All but the youngest of the potential victims were staring up at her with eyes so wide it looked painful. The littlest was clutched to his mother's breast, hiding his face.
</p>
<p>"How badly are you hurt?" Xena flipped from French to Spanish now that all the soldiers were disposed of. She took a step in their direction.
</p>
<p>The Mother squeaked her distress and hopelessly attempted to gather all her children to her. The Father pushed painfully to his feet. "You're scaring the children." He said cautiously. "Please don't come any closer."
</p>
<p>The warrior hesitated, feeling the sticky sensation of drying blood on her skin for the first time. "I'll wash off then help you with this mess." She began.
</p>
<p>On the ground the soldier she had repeatedly stabbed let out a faint groan. Without hesitation Xena walked over, planted a foot on his neck and stomped, breaking it. The wail that the action drew from the farmwife caught her completely by surprise. "What is it?"
</p>
<p>"Take anything you want." The farmer offered. He rousted the kids. "Come children. We have to get out of here."
</p>
<p>"Is the Lady going to kill us too, Papa?" One asked in an over-exaggerated whisper.
</p>
<p>As if for the first time, Xena swept her gaze over the wreckage she had made of the three Frenchmen, then looked down at herself. [I practically bathed in it.] The soldiers' blood coated her. Xena's knees simply gave out. She dropped down into a cross-legged position, still staring at her red stained hands.
</p>
<p>Around the seemingly catatonic Partisan the family shifted cautiously into action. Writing off the contents of the still burning house...the Mother, Father, and oldest children gathered up what few useful possessions they could and loaded a mule. The tinest huddled together, fearful of touching any of the French or even looking Xena's way.
</p>
<p>It wasn't until the group had finished their packing and were about to leave that the warrior looked up, noting that they had prepared to head towards their neighbours' home. "Don't." Xena croaked out. "You don't want to go in that direction." She elaborated.
</p>
<p>"The family that lives down that way... the Ferentez... "
</p>
<p>"All dead." She cut off the farmer's sentence. "These... " Her hand gestured absently at the corpses that lay about. "These ones, they came from there." Xena looked off in another direction, unable to stomach the looks on the faces of the children. "These men are part of a larger force. You don't want to be anywhere near here when that lot come after these." She left the reasons unclear. Part of it might be the reaction the French soldiers would have to her brand of justice but Xena's intentions were dire as well. "Go south towards the English... quickly." Her head dropped down as if the words had drained something out of her.
</p>
<p>It wasn't until the family departed that Xena ran a considering look about, noting the bodies, a tipped smouldering wagon, and a few other cast-off bits. The smile that suddenly lit up her face was terrifying to behold. It was time to make a statement, to throw down the gauntlet and put the fear of 'La Princesa Guerrera' into those French barbarians.
</p>
<hr/>
<p><i>COMPTE DE MARQUERRE: "If you were in my position you would have done the same."</i>
<br/><i>SHARPE: "I might... but don't expect a happy ending. You have to be a man, Marquerre. Me I changed me class. I was in the ranks. I can walk into the officers' mess but I don't expect them to be happy about it. I don't expect a round of applause. Same goes for my time with the lads. I sit and drink tea but I'm not one of them anymore. You make your bed, Marquerre, then you lie in it... without complaining."</i>
</p>
<p>In a reversal of their usual duties Richard Sharpe was pulling guard duty. He stood with his rifle at ready, examining their surroundings for any movement. Hagman crouched low to the ground, his mind on finding the next pointer along their errant Colonel's trail.
</p>
<p>"Give me a minute, Sir. I've lost him again. I think he's changed direction." The tracker rose, joints protesting. "But as near as I can tell he's still alone. Damned if I know what the man is up to."
</p>
<p>"Shite." Richard cursed. He briefly considered Harris, who he had left waiting for the rest of the lads back by the stream. Their small group was broken into too many small fragments. "How fast is he moving? Can we spare the time to let the others catch up to us?"
</p>
<p>The rangy rifleman shrugged. "He's speeding up as we get further from the water... being less careful. I should find signs of him without too much bother. Still, it's hard to figure him out without knowing his destination, Sir."
</p>
<p>"Are you sure the bugger's not just trying to find his way back to us... or the British lines?"
</p>
<p>A weary lift of his greying brows preceded Dan's reply. "Unless he's an idiot... he's not looking for us. As for heading back to camp, I doubt it, but I can't say yes or no for sure. The Colonel's put some effort into shaking us off his trail, Major." Hagman reminded his officer.
</p>
<p>Sharpe scowled at the surrounding greenery. What the hell was Mulder thinking? Every moment the question of whether to keep chasing the man down warred with the task that Wellington had set them. They were supposed to be finding and returning with 'La Princesa Guerrera' not crawling through the underbrush looking for a wayward pain in the ass.
</p>
<p>Hagman was blessedly still while the Major weighted the two alternatives. Maybe, Richard considered, he could mesh the two errands. If they could turn up Xena perhaps the partisan could help them find the Colonel. "Lets go back, Dan." Sharpe decided.
</p>
<p>"As you say, Sir."
</p>
<p>They turned about. The trail markers they had left for Harris and the others made finding the return route simple. Richard didn't need to concentrate so a corner of his mind could afford to wander.
</p>
<p>Between hunting for clues about Xena and the Colonel's constant provocation Richard had spent a lot of time thinking about Teresa lately... not that his late wife ever disappeared from his thoughts for long. Surprisingly enough the memories didn't cause the same tearing pain as they had just a short time ago. Although he still felt the emptiness inside it was manageable, like an ageing wound. That comparison brought a rueful half-smile to his face. The Lord knew his body had endured more than it's fair share of damage over the years. One of the women he had tumbled with had begun counting the marks on his skin as a lark. She had started with the scar along his left eyebrow. Richard couldn't clearly recall whether she had lost count or lost interest in the game... only that the exercise had degenerated into yet another bout of sheet tangling.
</p>
<p>That particular phrase brought his mind right back to Colonel Mulder. Maybe if the man had taken a slightly different approach then Mulder's attentions wouldn't have disturbed Richard as much as they did. As it was, Sharpe couldn't shake the feeling that there was something decidedly 'off' about the Colonel. This escapade was confirmation. It was just plain foolishness to get involved with an exploring officer and Hogan had told Richard right up front that Mulder was marked for espionage. To become a spy a man had to possess some odd bends in his personality. Sharpe preferred to keep his distance from Hogan and his shifty lot whenever possible. The fiasco of his brief, ill-fated friendship with Jack Spears leap to the fore of his thoughts. [Damn, but I liked the man. Trust me to take a fancy to a double agent.]
</p>
<p>The quiet between them stretched on a long time. Hagman was content to let the silence be for as long as was convenient. It wasn't until it looked as if the Major was about to make a misstep that Dan reached out to tap Sharpe's arm. "Sir." Hagman tipped his head to indicate a direction change. The former poacher could tell by the look on his commander's face that complicated thoughts were chasing through that blonde head. Dan knew that the ability to think on his feet was one of the reasons that the Major had climbed so high in the ranks. The problems bothering his officer now must be fairly difficult to sift through to cause such a lapse in attention.
</p>
<p>"Lead on." Sharpe prompted.
</p>
<p>They started off once more at a slow steady pace. Richard couldn't help but notice Hagman seemed to be even more watchful than usual, automatically compensating for Sharpe's own distraction. "We need to find Xena." He said softly. Saying it aloud helped. "I think we're close to finding her already." Concentrating on the mission was a way to force his wandering mind back into order. Richard didn't want to spend too much time haring about in the wilderness. There was an offensive coming and he needed to be leading his regiment. That was how he'd earn promotion. Covert asides like this assignment weren't going to achieve him the kind of recognition he craved.
</p>
<p>The only good things ever to come out of missions that Hogan had a hand in were the times it hooked had him up with Teresa. Richard wondered a moment if Xena was going to be as intriguing as her one-time student. Hard on the heels of that thought was the revelation that he was curious about Xena's physical appearance. The mourning attitude he had felt dragging him at him for so long must be lifting. "I don't see how the woman can manage to be so difficult to locate." Richard mused aloud. "I mean, how many six foot, sword wielding, female partisans can there be out there, eh Dan?"
</p>
<p>That provoked a raspy chuckle. "I didn't think they grew them that big hereabouts, Sir."
</p>
<p>"She's not local." Sharpe stepped over a fallen tree. "I don't think Teresa even knew where the woman came from originally. She mentioned something about Germany once but... ." He shrugged.
</p>
<p>"Maybe we'll get a surprise and discover she's some long lost cousin of Sergeant Harper's." Hagman let out a sniff of amusement. "To hear the Sergeant talk she sound right typical of a black Irish farm-wife... handsome as a new coin and strong enough to pull the plow if the nag takes ill... all the while popping out a baby a year."
</p>
<p>"I might suggest that you don't repeat that anywhere that the Princesa might overhear, Dan. I've a feeling those sentiments would earn you a rap upside the head."
</p>
<p>"Beggin' yer pardon, Sir. I didn't mean any offence by it." The older man shifted uncomfortably at the realisation of how flippant that remark had been.
</p>
<p>"It's merely a jest, Dan." Sharpe eased. "It's nice to hear you speak your mind once in a while."
</p>
<p>A sparkle of light on the water ahead told them that they were approaching the waterway. As fate would have it, Patrick and the others had just arrived. They were just setting off after Sharpe and Hagman.
</p>
<p>Richard approached, hand flat to halt their movement. "Change in plans, Lads." Their Major informed them. "Or rather a return to course. We're going to get back to our search for the Princesa." It wasn't his imagination. That announcement provoked signs of satisfaction all around.
</p>
<p>"So what's our direction, Sir?" Harris petted absently at the nose of Mulder's horse.
</p>
<p>"Towards the frogs." Richard decided. "We're going to close some of the distance between us and that French column that's been causing all the trouble with the farmers hereabouts." He informed them. "The thing is not to engage them... just to get close enough so Xena will trip over us if she's stalking them." He looked to Hagman. "You and Harris take point. Give Perkins the lead to that damned horse." Sharpe instructed. "Cooper, Sergeant Harper... mind our flanks."
</p>
<p>For a moment it looked as if Patrick would object to the assignments but the big man didn't give his protest voice.
</p>
<p>Richard kept the animal between himself and Perkins. He still had more baggage that needed straightening out.
</p>
<hr/>
<p><i>EURIPIDES (to an audience): "There are stories of the Warrior Princess that are so cold as to chill the heart."</i>
</p>
<p>Aleksandr wasn't surprised when Major Navarre chose to walk beside him rather than ride when the column finally formed up to move out. They stayed precisely in the centre of the group. Navarre's horse was behind and to the right. Sergeant Moncrieff followed on Aleksandr's left.
</p>
<p>The Major, after some encouragement, was supplying a rousing monologue about a mounted clash he participated in during his time in Austria. Alek listened carefully and watched even more intently. He needed to identify and cache Etienne's different moods and how he displayed each. The Russian would have to effectively counter the accusations that Malais would fling at him the moment they met. He intended to hang onto his stolen rank with tooth and nail, pleading astonishment at Malais' assertions of ownership. Alek also had to see his handler dead once the game began or it would be his ruin.
</p>
<p>"You amaze me, Major Navarre." Aleksandr adjusted his pacing so they were perfectly in step with one another and closed the distance between them slightly so he could lower his voice. The other had shown no sign of understanding English so Alek stuck to French when speaking. "How do you decide when a situation is worth attempting as opposed to walking away from it?"
</p>
<p>Navarre hesitated. "In war it is simply a matter of following orders."
</p>
<p>"But I suspect that your boldness extends outside the battlefield, Major Navarre." Aleksandr cocked his head to one side. "Do you take such extravagant chances... personally?"
</p>
<p>That caused an in-drawn breath. Etienne levelled a stare. He tried to decide if the other was flirting with him or if that was simply wishful thinking. "I've taken some risks in the past, Colonel Alexander."
</p>
<p>"Alex. I'd like you to call me Alex." The Russian whispered.
</p>
<p>[He is flirting.] Navarre decided with a shiver of pleasure at the timbre of that husky voice. "I think you're the one taking chances, Alex."
</p>
<p>"Major Navarre, would you consider... "
</p>
<p>The question was cut off by a shout from the leading edge of the patrol. The Major's posture went rigid. His hand flicked to bring Moncrieff closer to their erstwhile prisoner then Navarre strode ahead, hands steadying his musket as he walked. By the time he reached the forward edge of the group the cause of the disturbance was clear. The two soldiers from the column who had gone with Malais on his expedition were returning to their company.
</p>
<p>The two men were loaded down with supplies and had two weighted donkeys in tow. Their grins of triumph extinguished as soon as their Major levelled his cold grey glare at them.
</p>
<p>"Where is Sergeant Malais?" Etienne demanded in a cool, regal tone. His attention was on the men but he took note of their generous quantity of supplies. They must have stripped a farm clean to gather so much.
</p>
<p>"I'm not exactly sure, Sir. The Sergeant told us to haul this stuff back to base camp." The slightly shorter of the two young soldiers responded. The other one was in the middle of a nervous squirm.
</p>
<p>The Major frowned, waiting in silence until both were suffering from a case of the fidgets. "Distribute the supplies that you're carrying quickly." He ordered. "Then you will lead us back to where you left the Sergeant. MOVE!" When Etienne's voice finally raised it set in motion a frantic flurry of activity.
</p>
<p>Navarre stalked back to where his horse and prisoner were still standing. "Idiot Sergeant." The blonde grumbled in an undertone. "We need to pick up the pace gentlemen." He announced to the whole group. "There's also a chance that Sergeant's Malais' activities have attracted our vengeful Princess to the area. Heads up. Full alert all about." Etienne stopped right in front of Alek and ran a speculative gaze over the younger man. "When did you last sleep?" He demanded.
</p>
<p>Aleksandr looked down at his feet, considering, then chose the truth. "The night before last."
</p>
<p>The answer earned another appraisal. Etienne turned slightly looking at the burdened donkeys that carried their excess gear before settling his eyes on Moncrieff. "Give the Colonel the reins to my horse, Sergeant. I won't have you slowing us down, Colonel Alexander." The second sentence was turned back Alek's way.
</p>
<p>"You are too kind, Major Navarre. Thank you." Aleksandr accepted the mare's lead. He swung up in the saddle with an internal sigh of relief.
</p>
<p>"Quick march. Let's move out." Etienne encouraged his men. He broke into a jog, secure in the knowledge that they would follow his example.
</p>
<p>Aleksandr allowed himself to sag in the saddle slightly but his thoughts continued to run two steps ahead. Luckily after a lifetime on horseback he didn't need to pay any mind in order to ride. Odds were that Malais' had done his usual spree of wanton destruction... so it shouldn't be too much of a task to get Navarre angry enough to pronounce a death sentence on the bastard. The trick was going to be in convincing the Major that everything Malais would claim was a complete lie.
</p>
<p>Too soon they came upon the scene of the damage. Alek, well aware of how tempting a target he would make to a sniper, slipped down to the bloody ground. He paced over to where Navarre stood dispatching his soldiers about the scene. The carnage was familiar enough to Aleksandr. He could pick out the two Spaniards that Malais had killed by the type of injuries they bore. "Your men are rather... enthusiastic foragers, Major Navarre." The Russian commented blandly.
</p>
<p>"They're not MY men." Etienne snapped back, hot with shame at the level of devastation.
</p>
<p>"My apologies. I was under the impression that this... Sergeant... was collecting supplies for your soldiers." Alek stroked the forehead of the skittery horse whose reins he still held. "I should have realised immediately that an officer of your quality would never endorse such brazen brutality."
</p>
<p>Navarre shot a furious glare at his prisoner. "Sergeant Malais is not a proper French soldier."
</p>
<p>"And obviously not under your command." The spy pushed carefully, treading the edge of an insult.
</p>
<p>"What are you suggesting Colonel Alexander? Are you saying that I can't control my men?" Navarre's chin lifted and he glared.
</p>
<p>Aleksandr took a few steps before stopping to gaze down at one of Malais' victims. His stomach twisted into knots but Alek kept his voice in the same gravely whisper he had been using so effectively against the other man. "The men who did this are criminals... thugs and murderers. I wouldn't want to be the officer responsible for such savages... but neither would I want to take responsibility for letting this kind of mindless savagery continue. I'm much relieved you aren't the man in charge of them, Major Navarre. It would completely shatter my perceptions of you."
</p>
<p>[Christ but the Brit was walking the edge of a razor.] Etienne's anger at the almost insult warred with the need to explain the situation. "They were assigned to me. Sergeant Malais is not... one of my Sergeants." Navarre was disgusted. That sounded like a poor excuse even to himself and he know the particulars.
</p>
<p>"Of course, Major. The Sergeant is no doubt outside your control." Alek made careful use of the ranks. "As an independent power he took two of your soldiers... committed this outrage... and is beyond the reach of your authority to discipline. I understand perfectly."
</p>
<p>The Major's breathing had quickened to almost panting. A red cast was staining his forehead and throat. Aleksandr was on the edge of bracing for an attack when the Frenchman spun in place.
</p>
<p>"VINAY! BEAULAC!" Etienne roared the names of the two men who had accompanied Malais that morning. "Where do you think they went next?" He demanded of the looters.
</p>
<p>"Down the road." A quaking finger pointed the way.
</p>
<p>Navarre's fume showed no sign of cooling. He glared at the rutted road and then the donkeys that the trembling men were still leading. "You found ample supplies here. Another stop was completely uncalled for."
</p>
<p>The two squirmed in embarrassment.
</p>
<p>"WHY?" Etienne practically screamed in Vinay's ear.
</p>
<p>"The Sergeant... Sir... he wanted a woman."
</p>
<p>"Hoof prints, Major Navarre!" One of the soldiers checking out the road shouted. "Fresh cut and deep."
</p>
<p>"Only one horse but it's moving fast." Another added.
</p>
<p>"God damn... son of bitch." Etienne snapped. "I'm both disgusted and disappointed with the pair of you." He hissed. These men had served under him long enough to know their Major didn't approve of indiscriminate brutality. "You could have acquired the same supplies without this kind of bloodshed." Navarre was practically snarling. "You will stay here. Bury the dead, keep alert and watch each other's backs." Considering the level of violence perpetrated here it might attract the attention of their mission target. The idea of offering up a couple of sacrificial lambs had a guilty, ruthless appeal that Etienne would normally avoid... but if he was going to tempt the Warrior Princess with an easy target, who better than these two. "I will consider your further punishment when we return for you." He offered. "Or I can have Sergeant Bascar shoot you now."
</p>
<p>"We'll fix this up properly, Sir." Vinay responded. "Thank you, Sir."
</p>
<p>The other mumbled the same words of gratitude with less enthusiasm.
</p>
<p>Navarre nodded curtly. "Mount up, Colonel Alexander." He suggested. "FORM UP! Move out!" The Major jogged up to the lead of the group and broke into a loping run one more time.
</p>
<p>Alek climbed back into the saddle and urged the mare forward. He spared a flicker of curiosity over whether the two soldiers on burial duty would still be there when they returned then set to contemplating the upcoming encounter. Alek needed to hang back at the beginning and let the temper he had frothed Navarre into take it's toll. If Malais didn't see his menial until the threat of retribution was hard upon him then Alek could more easily deflect the identification as an act of desperation.
</p>
<p>A fleeting thought of attempting flight right now darted through Aleksandr's thoughts but he dismissed it as panicked nonsense. First of all, no horse was faster than the musket fire that fleeing would earn him... and secondly, Alek needed to ensure Malais' death before he could dare this plan. It was far more practical to just fade into the darkness as he had with Sharpe's lot. The Russian spent the ride plotting and counterplotting all of Malais' possible accusations.
</p>
<p>The odour hit the Frenchmen first. The previous site had the smell of death but for some reason this one seemed worse.
</p>
<p>Aleksandr, lingering back as far he could, heard the sound of someone vomiting before he got a clear sight of what was happening. The mare he was riding stopped dead on the outer edge of the farmyard not wishing to move forward even when Alex dug his heels in.
</p>
<p>"SECURE THE PERIMETER!" Navarre's voice actually echoed in the sooty air.
</p>
<p>Alek slid down to the dirt and caught the bridle of the mare in his hand, tugging her forward by force. Sergeant Moncrieff was all but bouncing in his impatience to join the rest of the group. He actually stepped away the prisoner's side, rushing forward as soon as the full impact of the display before them sunk in.
</p>
<p>"At least attempt to identify it before you shoot it." The Major snapped impatiently at some inaudible remark.
</p>
<p>Aleksandr Viktorvich Krycek thought he had seen some of the worst things that one human could do to another. This topped nearly everything. The stink of blood smacked Alek in the face. The ground under his feet was sticky with it. Under that stench lurked bile, acidic fear and the sweetish scent of burnt flesh.
</p>
<p>A pair of huge, slightly charred wagon wheels were leaning near the entrance of what remained of the house. Aleksandr thought he might recognise the faces of the two bodies stretched out and fastened to the spokes, but it was hard to be sure. It was difficult to look straight at the men and see beyond their sliced bodies and escaping innards. The poses might be post-mortem if the clear cut drag marks could be believed. Alek didn't doubt that anyone still alive would have fought, smearing the trails.
</p>
<p>Not too far from Alek, Moncrieff was staring at the grisly scene while he crossed himself and swore at the same time. The man didn't seem to care when his charge walked away, dragging the horse over to the nearby barn. Maybe a drink of water from the trough might calm the poor things nerves.
</p>
<p>Not so strangely, Navarre took no notice of the Colonel's actions. He was intent on barking out orders, demands for information and attempting to sort out some kind of orderly search for Malais' body. No one expected they would find anything more than a dead body considering the state of the other men. The Major wouldn't be surprised by a head on post at this point.
</p>
<p>The Russian's eyes swept the site but he kept the rest of his face a bland mask. Only his less than gentle treatment of the stubborn horse betrayed the level of distress he was feeling. "Hold still, you ruddy big beast." He tied the lead in place then turned, rubbing the arm it had fought against. A sharpened bit of metal caught his eye. It was poking out through the weathered wood of the barn door just below his line of sight. A thin trickle of red had dripped from it. Without bothering to check for permission Alek lifted the simple latch that held the massive door closed. He stepped aside as the weight of the portal caused it to swing. The thing got about halfway open before snagging.
</p>
<p>Aleksandr couldn't hold on to his disinterest. "Ebat'-kopat'!" The Russian curse was startled out of him. The sight of Malais pinned, feet dragging in the dirt, to the inside of the barn door was enough to bring a sharp smile of pleasure to his face. "Da-svedanya ty sukin syn." He whispered, enjoying the moment of private satisfaction. Malais' arms hung at his sides, crusted with gore at the ends where his wrists should be. The bayonet of a musket held the body upright. It wobbled with the weight of the severed hand that decorated it. A scrap of paper was wedged in the stiff white fingers.
</p>
<p>The spy, acting on years of habit, didn't hesitate to seize and read the note. In flawless French was written:
</p>
<p>
  <i>These men are murderers, rapists and thieves. They do not deserve to die as warriors. Those responsible for allowing monsters like these to go unpunished for their crimes against the innocent people of this land will suffer a similar fate.</i>
</p>
<p> He tucked the notice away inside his jacket without a second thought.
</p>
<p>"COLONEL ALEXANDER!"
</p>
<p>The bellow came from the far side of the door. It appeared as if the Major had finally noticed that his prisoner was no where to be seen. Aleksandr stepped to one side, displaying himself to Navarre and a glowering Moncrieff. "I think, Major Navarre, that I've discovered your wayward Sergeant." A hard shove forced Malais' heels over the raised bit of ground that had stalled the action of the barn door. The body was easily viewed by everyone in the yard.
</p>
<p>"Mon Dieu." Etienne stared. Sergeant Malais was hung up like some kind of grotesque scarecrow. Navarre hissed out the breath of foul air that his shock had pulled in. The eerie silence that had greeted the discovery of the new body allowed the sound to reach even Alek's ears. Etienne pinched the bridge of his nose and turned back to his men.
</p>
<p>*
</p>
<p>Far enough away that she had to use a telescope to view the proceedings, Xena grinned at the officer's reaction before returning to the task she had set herself. The warrior counted. Nineteen men in all moved about below her. Two Sergeants, a Major, and strangely enough... what looked like a British officer. He had been the one to discover her piece-de-resistance. That one must be a prisoner despite the fact he had been the only one riding when they arrived. He carried no gun, after all.
</p>
<p>There were too many frogs for her to take on alone considering all those muskets and the defensiveness she had hyped them into. Luckily, that captured officer might be just the incentive she needed if the plan slowly building in her mind failed.
</p>
<p>Xena wiggled backwards to where she had tied her horse. First she would go back to other farm and clean up. Perhaps, if the fates were feeling kind, the Frogs may have left a smaller party behind for her to play with. She intended to find out how cohesive the unit she faced really was. The warrior didn't expect too much loyalty to the column's officers considering the conduct of the soldiers that she had already encountered.
</p>
<p>*
</p>
<p>Down below Major Navarre had returned to issuing orders. "Bascar, comb the area for trail signs. We know where this vigilante rode in... I want to know which way he or she left... how far ahead the scoundrel is... and what happened to the people who lived here. I need some answers." Etienne looked about. "Moncrieff, tighten up our pickets. Keep them moving. We are now the quarry as well as the hunters."
</p>
<p>"Oui Commandant." They answered together before departing.
</p>
<p>The Major made himself go over to the two soldiers displayed on wheels and actually examine the damage. There was no sign of musket or pistol shot. Most of the damage was indicative of an edged weapon except for the odd angle one head hung at. They were tied in place with mismatched bits of rope and strapping, suggesting this wasn't carefully pre-planned.
</p>
<p>"Should we cut them down, Sir?" One of the nearest soldiers asked in an uncomfortable tone.
</p>
<p>"Leave them." The Major countered. "You saw what they did at the other farm. We all know how they've been conducting themselves since they began tagging after us. These are not French soldiers. They're bandits... who followed a beast. This is no more than they deserve. I'll not allow good men to dirty their hands on the likes of these." He looked across at the speaker. "You men... my men... are best used as the finely trained soldiers you are... not as gravediggers for pirates."
</p>
<p>"Yes Sir." Once more the man's attention turned outward to the surrounding area.
</p>
<p>Finally Etienne rejoined the Colonel, who was still standing near the decorated barn door. The younger man seemed to be studying Malais' body. "Whatever are you thinking about, Colonel Alexander?"
</p>
<p>Aleksandr continued to stare. "Justice. I'm thinking about justice... and wondering where the Sergeant's other hand got to?"
</p>
<p>Navarre frowned, realising that no one had come across that limb yet.
</p>
<p>Alek had to tear his gaze off the sight of his long-time tormentor's lifeless body. An unreasonable fear mocked him... that the man would surge to life once more if the spy dared to turn his back. "What now, Major Navarre?" Aleksandr fought to keep his voice unaffected by the variety of emotions that twisted him.
</p>
<p>"My mission has become suddenly urgent and within my grasp, I think. There will be a delay taking you in Colonel. I hope you can endure my company a little longer."
</p>
<p>"My time in your company has been the high-light of my year." Alek didn't need to lie. Suddenly his whole life was turning around. [I can change now, Mama. I can finally become a son worthy of you.] He pledged to his guardian angel. [It's all going to be different from now on. I swear.]
</p>
<p>"We'll finish up here... go back and collect the men on punishment detail... tend to my mission... " Etienne listed. "Then I'll see you into proper custody, as befits your rank, myself."
</p>
<p>The Russian couldn't help but smile at how bright the future suddenly appeared. It transformed his features from attractive to absolutely devastating.
</p>
<p>"Alex... " Etienne didn't mean to use the name but his chest had squeezed tight, forcing out the word on hovering on his lips.
</p>
<p>"Etienne?" Aleksandr responded in kind, without permission. The flustered wince his murmur provoked pleased him.
</p>
<p>The Major's mouth opened uselessly and both of his hands began to reach before Navarre regained control, recalling where he was and who was nearby. "We should... " The thought began to emerge then completely evaded him.
</p>
<p>"Yes, we should, Etienne. I want to."
</p>
<p>{Putain de bordel! C'est ali.} Navarre tore himself away from the other officer and the sudden dangerous tension that had sprung up between them. "Absolutely insane." He walked away in something near a daze.
</p>
<p>Aleksandr treated himself to one more glance at Malais' chilling corpse and a quiet laugh of amusement before turning to the task of untangling the reins of the Major's horse.
</p>
<hr/>
<p><i>MULDER: "Divide and conquer. If your enemy has greater numbers than you, you divide and conquer it to diminish those numbers."</i>
</p>
<p>She couldn't afford to let herself slip out of control this time. Xena wanted more than simple revenge on these two soldiers. To their credit, they were burying bodies rather than wreaking more havoc but they possessed something that Xena required... information. Simply because they were French soldiers, there wasn't any chance that they would survive the interrogation.
</p>
<p>They seemed to be just finishing up a burial detail. One walked a wary guard while the other tossed aside the shovel and proceeded to brush himself off.
</p>
<p>Slinking forward to crouch in the cover of the stone well, the warrior could just make out the conversation between the two soldiers.
</p>
<p>"What do you suppose he meant?" The digger shrugged into his blue jacket and picked up his weapon. A nervous look was raked over the road. "You've been with the Major longer than I have."
</p>
<p>"It's hard to say." The guard's shoulders shifted. "We were only following the Sergeant's lead... but the Major's got particular ideas of what's right and wrong. I suppose we'll find out when they get back." He paused to peer into the shadow of the ruined house. "The sooner the better I'd say. This place gives me the creeps."
</p>
<p>"I wouldn't be so hasty." The other contradicted.
</p>
<p>Xena tensed to spring into action.
</p>
<p>The grubbier of the two slipped into an oily mock whisper. "I'm thinking that it might be in our best interests to make ourselves scarce before they come back."
</p>
<p>"Desert?"
</p>
<p>The near yelp of surprise froze their stalker in place. Xena waited momentarily to see what would happen next.
</p>
<p>"Why the crap not?" A musket barrel gestured. "Why stay here and maybe get flogged when... "
</p>
<p>She made her move as the two men were distracted by their discussion. The words helped Xena decide which of them would die first. She surged forward, sword extended to skewer the one who had been on watch. Leaving the sword in his chest, she let the momentum of her charge continue to carry her. The warrior toppled the other soldier before he had time to raise his gun.
</p>
<p>Her hands snapped out, fingers tight together. Two jabs near the man's collar dropped him to the ground near the mass grave he had just filled in.
</p>
<p>Xena knelt beside the prone figure. "That hurts, doesn't it? It's because I've cut off the flow of blood to your brain. You'll be dead in seconds if I don't remove the block." She informed the trembling man. "You had best answer my questions." The immortal tossed his gun aside negligently. "Who is your Commander and what is your mission?"
</p>
<p>The soldier's limbs shook and his eyes were wide. "Major Navarre." He stuttered out. "We're hunting the Warrior Princess." His voice quavered in fright. "Please. I haven't done anything but follow orders."
</p>
<p>"What's with the Brit travelling with your column?"
</p>
<p>"He surrendered this morning... to... " The man passed on what his friends had told him as they marched. Bulging eyes were beginning to roll back in their sockets and a line of blood ran down from his nose and across his lips. "Please."
</p>
<p>Xena climbed to her feet and turned her back on the man as he went into convulsions. She took the few steps needed to inspect her first victim while the other's death gurgle assaulted her ears. A twinge of guilt was ruthlessly quashed before it had a chance to form into disrupting mental words. It wasn't Gabrielle speaking to her. It was only Xena's guilty conscience using the most effective tool... and the warrior didn't dare allow herself to listen.
</p>
<p>[Justice.] The dark-haired woman shot the single word down the fragile bond that held her back from complete disregard for anything but bloody vengeance. This Major Navarre had ordered carnage. It was time to see that he got what he desired.
</p>
<p>No convenient wagon wheels presented themselves to Xena's searching gaze. She didn't want to waste time so the immortal's imagination alighted on another possibility. What she needed was something dramatic and clearly visible to the entire column. Perhaps with the right motivation the Major's own men would turn on him and begin her task for her.
</p>
<p>Removing her heavy sword from the dead man's chest, Xena braced herself and chopped down. Concentrating on how badly her weapon was going to need tending after today's blunting butchery took her into the state she needed  to calmly place her props.
</p>
<p>Some bits of charcoaled wood and debris worked well as writing instruments. This warning needed to be large enough that all the men who could read would be able to see it. Dissent among the Frogs would tip the balance enough that she wouldn't have to enlist the Brits to her aid.
</p>
<p>As soon as the set-up was complete Xena headed for cover. She collected her mount from the brush near the road and set to gaining altitude. She wanted an unobstructed view of the French when they arrived but she needed to be well outside their pickets. It was a pity she wouldn't get to hear the impending conflict but actions and body language should tell her enough.
</p>
<p>The immortal was comfortably settled into position before her targets came running up the road. Strangely enough the Major was right in the front rank. Most officers would have hung back in such a situation.
</p>
<p>A flare of satisfaction warmed her as the soldiers noticed the first severed, mounted head. One of them actually turned away to vomit while the rest looked queasy.
</p>
<p>The Major and his Sergeants were quick to set up guards. They posted their perimeter well within the limitations of practical space and manpower. These men were savvy about their own capabilities. That didn't bode well for the possibility of picking them off gradually. That method would take too long. Xena wanted them all dead as quickly as possible.
</p>
<p>The second body was tossed carelessly on the ground near the gate to the vegetable garden. His head adorned the highest part of the fence. It was on the wall of the shed just outside that garden that Xena had scrawled her message. The tool shed was the only structure still intact.
</p>
<p>She had made this note a personal attack, attempting to form a rift between the officers and the men.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i>Major Navarre
<br/>The people of this farm did not deserve the heinous treatment afforded them by your butchers. I hold you and your Sergeants responsible and will see you pay for this atrocity. You can't run or hide from me. All who stand between me and my vengeance will also die.
<br/>Your days are finite.
<br/>The Warrior Princess</i>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> Xena watched the import of her words break through the men of the column like a wave. Those few who could read told the men who couldn't... who in turn passed it along. A pleased smile spread across her lips as she watched the two Sergeants exchange worried looks and stiffen in reaction to her threat. Xena trained her spyglass on the Major, anticipating his discomfort when he realised she'd all but suggested his men either turn on him to protect themselves or run away.
</p>
<p>Much to the warrior's annoyance the officer didn't even flinch, but rather continued to behave as if the threat were nothing but idle boasting. He began to calmly issue orders.
</p>
<p>Even more puzzling was what happened next.
</p>
<p>Two of the common soldiers had fallen into a very promising huddle. Several black looks were aimed at the Major's unconcerned back and Xena began to hope for a crack to form in the unit. The Major didn't seem to be aware of the threat and the Sergeants were already busy organising the guards and a burial detail.
</p>
<p>It was the British officer who took notice of the poisoned glowers. The green clad man very casually walked over and stationed himself at the French Major's back. There was, however, nothing subtle about the ready stance he took up and the way his hand rested on the hilt of his belt knife as he stared the possible troublemakers down.
</p>
<p>Xena pulled the telescope away from her eye with a frown. So they weren't the unruly rabble she had hoped for. It looked as if she was going to need those damned British riflemen after all.
</p>
<p>*
</p>
<p>The object of Xena's confusion shot one more deadly glare at the conspiring soldiers then flicked his hand, suggesting that they separate. There was no way Alek wanted to be caught in the middle of a struggle for leadership or a mass desertion. He needed these musket toting goons as protection for a while yet.
</p>
<p>"Major." Aleksandr kept up his scrutiny of the men as he spoke softly to his temporary protector.
</p>
<p>"Colonel?" Etienne responded in the same low tone.
</p>
<p>"I don't mean to second guess you... but now would be a good time to offer up a few words of solidarity." The Russian prompted gently.
</p>
<p>"All in good time." Navarre assured. "I won't react in panic. It sets a bad example." He explained. "but before we go I will remind them that order and vigilance are the best methods of dealing with a lone attacker. She doesn't dare assault us face on considering the odds. This propaganda... ." Etienne tilted his head. "... might have worked on a less disciplined lot but now that Malais' influence is gone I expect I'll regain the crack company that I assembled and trained."
</p>
<p>Aleksandr nodded his acknowledgement but inside his own head he shivered. It was a fine short term solution but the idea of depending on others for his safety would never be something he could be entirely comfortable with. Alek shifted slightly and the rough crumpling of hard paper against his chest reminded him of the earlier missive. "Major Navarre." A quick look about told him no one was particularly watching them. "You should have this." He extracted the message from his jacket and handed it over. "It was affixed to the door at the other farm."
</p>
<p>Etienne accepted the paper while searching the other's face. "Why did you remove it?"
</p>
<p>The spy shrugged. "I thought you should be the one to decide it the men needed to know it's contents... not the Warrior Princess. I only want what's best for you... and your position, Major Navarre."
</p>
<p>A smile crooked Etienne's mouth. "Thank you... Alex. I'm concerned for your welfare also. It occurs to me that perhaps I should delay this confrontation with the Princess and see you to safety." Navarre was impressed. The sentiment actually shocked the Colonel into a look of unfeigned surprise and dangerous suspicion. The painfully honest emotion served to point out to Etienne how carefully composed the Brit's expression usually was. Almost immediately the mask... and Navarre now recognised what it was... settled back into place. Christ, but he wanted to knock it askew again and see what was really going in the younger man's head.
</p>
<p>"You would forsake your mission to assure my safety. I'm flattered. Admittedly I spent time in the command tent, but I can't share my knowledge with you or your superiors." Aleksandr dropped a crumb. Getting away from a vengeful murderess was in his and the Major's best interest.
</p>
<p>Navarre studied his prisoner a moment before speaking. "I think we shall withdraw back into French territory. The Princess is in a rage. She will likely follow us regardless of our direction at this point." He outlined. "And you need to be taken somewhere safer. Besides... " Etienne chuckled. "It will make the men feel a bit more secure and seriously hamper any thoughts of desertion."
</p>
<p>"You know best, Major."
</p>
<p>Etienne stared, wondering if his flash of insight had been an illusion. The Colonel couldn't look more harmless. Tonight, once everything and everyone was secure, he intended to try his damnedest to find out what was really going on in his captive's head. "Stay here. Keep down. I think I'll hurry the men along... and calm them down." Navarre added before walking away.
</p>
<p>Aleksandr chose a relatively unstained spot on the ground with a certain amount of cover and sat down. The diary he had taken from Mulder's fiancee dug into his ribs. Taking the Princess' note out of the pocket had shifted the small book in place. Alek extracted the burgundy volume and turned it in his hands. He had already read most of the thing and the spy wasn't much for carrying about unnecessary baggage. Flipping through the pages, Aleksandr removed the loose paper with the old Greek tale Fox had written. Keeping just the story, since it had caught his fancy, the Russian tossed the diary into a pile of household wreckage.
</p>
<p>[Two heads, four arms, and four legs...  What do you think, Mama?] He smiled at the much handled piece of paper before shoving it back inside his clothing.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Xena cursed quietly to herself, wiggling back from her perch. The band below her showed little evidence that her tactic was going to work. So it was on to plan B.
</p>
<p>The behaviour of the British officer down there was decidedly odd but that wasn't her concern. All that mattered was that his presence would provide bait. She would recruit the riflemen to her control by telling them about the prisoner. A barrage of rifle fire would thin out the column nicely. Then there was the inevitable follow-up attack. The conflict should allow her the chance to battle her way to the Major's side.
</p>
<p>The warrior crept away from the ridge and trotted to where her mount was tucked away. Hopefully those Brits she been looking for hadn't wandered too far afield. She didn't fancy wasting valuable time chasing the twits down.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <a id="notes" name="notes"></a>
</p>
<table> <tbody>
<tr><td> 
October 1999
<br/>THE FULL DISCLAIMER LIST IS AT THE BEGINNING OF CHAPTER I. Please go and check out all the warnings if you're a sensitive reader
<br/>Ownership: The characters from Xena: Warrior Princess, the X-files and Sharpe are not ours. We're making no profit.
<br/>Violence, language and sexual content: It's a definite R rating this time, for violence and the nasty gory aftermath ... also this story also contains f/f, f/m, and m/m sexual relationships.
<br/>If any of this offends you, or if you are underage, or it's illegal where you live... please, stop reading now.
<br/>Random Notes:
<br/>This chapter is a little longer, nice huh?
<br/>Our Beta reader helps to keep us going. Thank you for your encouragement, mouse.
<br/>If you're interested I (CarlaJane) have a habit of 'casting' the original character parts. I'm picturing Navarre as a 'Synchronicity era' Sting. Malais would be sort of Gene Simmons type... without the make-up. Did you see that Selleck SciFic flick 'Runaway'? That's the ticket.
<br/>Net-Authors work for feedback. Let us know what you think of our story, please. Contact us at [email removed]
<br/>Other websites—[broken link removed] 
</td></tr>
</tbody>
</table>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Our story is set during the Napoleonic wars as illustrated by Bernard Cornwell in his series of 'Sharpe' books and the subsequent TV movies. As our tale begins the British forces are pushing the French out of Spain. Richard Sharpe is now a Major and has been recently widowed. Xena, because of the ambrosia she consumed (Episode: The Quest), is immortal and has been travelling the world for two thousand years since the death of her soulmate, Gabrielle.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/><b>La Princesa Guerrera VII<br/>by Carl Jane and Jim</b>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <i>    MULDER: "No one can predict human behavior. No one can tell you what another person's going to do. "</i>
</p>
<p> "...  the possibilities that the tribal spirits of the Mohawk have parallels in...  "</p>
<p> Gabrielle dropped back from the couple a few more paces as Fox's rambling drifted even further into obscurity. It was more fun to watch the pair interact than it was to actually listen to the man talk.</p>
<p> Dana's head was tipped his way and a shy smile played over her lips. She watched his face with an expression of pleasure that suggested his tone of voice, rather than his words, held her primary interest.</p>
<p> Pleased that they were getting along so well, Gabrielle decided to keep her distance for a while. They're going to work. Gabrielle thought with a decidedly self-satisfied smile. I can see a happy ending. If only she could be so sure of Xena and herself. Gods, she missed her lover's mindvoice. Their last contact held such sadness and anger. How much worse had Xena's mood grown during the long silence? Gabrielle shook her head. She couldn't visualise any circumstances that could be so bad that her influence couldn't draw Xena back into the light. A stray thought from the night before came back to haunt her. Maybe it was a little arrogant to assume she knew what was best. Admittedly, she hadn't actually participated in the events leading up to this situation but Gabrielle had seen it all through Xena's eyes. The Bard couldn't think of anything extreme enough to overpower her cool reasoning once she'd had the chance to sit down and talk things over with Xena. Her lover had stayed on the side of the greater good for two thousand years now, that was a lot longer than she had walked the dark path. Personal retribution for injuries was one thing, but the mindless, blanketing revenge that last had clouded Xena's thoughts was beyond her understanding. Xena's long ago cry of 'kill them all' echoed through Gabrielle's mind. She realised that this might become the purpose behind the warrior's actions, replacing the sentiment of 'the greater good'.</p>
<p> Gabrielle ran an appraising gaze over their surroundings, not so wrapped up in her own thoughts that danger could approach.</p>
<p> Maybe she could convince her lover to retreat up into the mountains for a time. After so long apart they would need time to get reacquainted with one another. Last nights dreams and frustrations had been evidence enough that their reunion promised to be physically as well as emotionally explosive.</p>
<p> An odd shift in the wind brought Fox's voice clear again. "...  tried to get closer but Skinner said we didn't have time. I meant to go back but with one thing and another...  "</p>
<p> Gabrielle had to admire the fluid motion of Fox's shrug. The man certainly moved smoothly enough. He had that in common with Xena. Maybe it was their shared height or the experience of constant travel and battle-readiness. The blonde recalled running massaging hands over muscles and skin after her lover had fought hard or walked too far. There was a certain heady power to knowing you could soothe such a magnificent body. Gabrielle absently slid a hand down her own waist and hip, pleased by the strong, clean line. I will never be the tower of strength you are, lover, but I think I still cut a fair figure. At least it never failed to turn your head.</p>
<p> "Gabrielle?" Dana's pace had slowed. She was gazing expectantly back at her companion. "You look a million miles away."</p>
<p> "Sorry. My mind drifted. What's wrong?"</p>
<p> "Nothing is wrong."</p>
<p> Most of Dana's careful curls had turned to frizz or hung limply. "You just had a strange look on your face." The Irish woman commented.</p>
<p> "How close are we to where that kid said to go?" Fox joined the conversation by stopping until they came abreast of him.</p>
<p> "Very close." Gabrielle looked about the cultivated fields that currently surrounded them. "I expect to run across some signs anytime now."</p>
<p> "Who do you think we'll find first?" Dana asked. "Xena or Major Sharpe and his men?"</p>
<p> "Sharpe isn't actively hiding from us." Mulder reasoned. "But he's not actually doing anything either. Xena will be leaving more evidence of her proximity."</p>
<p> Gabrielle didn't want to think too hard about that. She had certain trepidations about how Dana was going to react to Xena's warlike manner. "That's a politician's answer." The blonde teasingly commented on Mulder's waffling. "You're going to fit in just fine with the nobility, Fox. A simple 'I don't know' would have done the duty, but no...  you had to elaborate."</p>
<p> He turned a flat expression on the storyteller. "I'm seriously considering taking that as an insult."</p>
<p> "You're going to absolutely dazzle Irish society, Fox." Dana pacified. "There's not a man among them who's your equal." She shot a tight smile at Gabrielle as she spoke. "There's a good number of men born to the gentry that don't have the brains of a sheep."</p>
<p> Mulder shrugged off the compliment. "I never put much stock into the idea of being born into a position in life. Your place should be earned, not a thrust upon you." He turned his attention onto the Bard. "Were you born into anything, Gabrielle?"</p>
<p> The question caught Gabrielle off guard. She had expected them to be more wrapped up in each other. Curiosity about her wasn't something she had planned on. "I was raised in a village...  in the middle of farmland." It took a few seconds to edit the story. "One sister. Father was a farmer. The place was as plain and quiet as any I've come across."</p>
<p> "So how is it that you're not happily married to a blacksmith...  with children hanging off your apron as you bake bread?" Fox asked, using a playful tone to offset the implied rudeness of the query.</p>
<p> "I WAS betrothed." Gabrielle swung her staff absently as she walked. "But I kept putting him off...  stalling for time. I knew it wasn't what I wanted." She sighed. "Unfortunately, I couldn't see any other options. Until Xena came along I'd never seen women outside of the narrow roles they filled at home. Xena was a revelation in more ways than one."</p>
<p> Dana coughed, a nervous little sound.</p>
<p> A curious expression flitted across Fox's face. His hazel-blue eyes narrowed slightly. "In what ways?"</p>
<p> The Amazon chuckled. "I didn't know that women could be warriors or think for themselves...  or that other people would even take them seriously as individuals." She unhooked her waterskin and took a sip. "Xena showed me I could be whatever I wanted to be...  that my wildest dreams were attainable. I wanted to learn. I wanted to tell stories...  meet interesting people. I wanted to see everything. You, of all people, must understand that desire Fox. You've seen so many places."</p>
<p> Dana couldn't help but feel a brief flash of envy for their experiences but hard on the heels of that came the knowledge that she wasn't really much of a world traveller. The Irish woman enjoyed the people she met along the way, but she missed her home too much. Dana couldn't see Gabrielle as a domestic and knew that the storyteller wouldn't be happy in that role. Travel and adventure might be what fulfilled her friend but the redhead was fairly certain that the life Gabrielle had given up would suit her just fine.</p>
<p> The storyteller continued on. "It was a bit odd getting used to the practical side of things...  cooking over an open fire, sleeping outside...  doing without a lot of possessions because you have to haul everything you own around with you." Gabrielle sighed. "We had one frypan, just one decent frying pan." The sun burnished her blonde hair to gold. "And Xena used it to bash some bandit... when she has perfectly good weapons near at hand. I was absolutely furious and when I complained she stood there with this look of complete disinterest on her face." Gabrielle glanced over at her friends. "THAT!" She pointed at Fox. "Gods, just like that."</p>
<p> The Canadian startled back a step as she gestured. "What? So She dented a frypan? Big deal. There's other ways to cook food."</p>
<p> "It's the principal of the thing." The Bard responded. "Here she is...  a walking armoury and instead of using her sword she demolishes an essential piece of cookware. I know. I know. If I wanted to worry about crockery, pots and pans I could have stayed home." Her grin was rueful. "I have to admit...  the people I've met, the places I've seen. Adventuring with Xena is worth every inconvenience. I can't imagine what my life would have been like if I hadn't left Potadeia."</p>
<p> "You're a storyteller. I should think you live for adventures." Dana's voice was coloured with admiration.</p>
<p> Fox was laughing quietly to himself. Two sets of raised brows made him speak up. "I'm just trying to picture you milking goats and feeding pigs, Gabrielle. It's not working."</p>
<p> "HAH!" The Bard smirked. "You think that's funny? We spent one winter working for Xena's mother at the inn she ran. You should have seen La Princesa Guerrera barefoot and elbow deep in a tub full of dirty dishes...  with soap bubbles in her hair. I laughed so hard that she refused to do it again for nearly a month. The practicalities of domestic life didn't really suit Xena. She's a hunter-gatherer by choice." A giggle bubbled up. "You should see Xena catch fish. She turned it into an art. She can grab an eel in her bare hands quicker and easier than I could nab one with a net." Gabrielle grinned.</p>
<p> "Ick." Dana's nose wrinkled in distaste. "Eels...  I delivered babies and that still sounds disgusting to me."</p>
<p> "It's an acquired taste." The bard admitted.</p>
<p> "Heads up." Fox shifted his rifle into a more comfortable position. Two adults and a small group of children were just coming into view.</p>
<p> "They don't look dangerous." Dana observed.</p>
<p> The gap between them had to close a little more before Gabrielle chose to comment. "They look tired." She glanced across at Mulder. "Don't scare the kids, Fox."</p>
<p> "Refugees?" He proposed.</p>
<p> "I think so." Gabrielle agreed. "Look how loaded down they are...  and the packing looks badly done." She increased the length of her stride so she would reach the oncoming family before Fox. "Ol." The storyteller offered up a smile. {How far have you come?} She queried in Spanish.</p>
<p> The man tossed a suspicious glance at Dana and Mulder before answering her. {We've been travelling since early afternoon. There's French back there. How are the roads ahead?}</p>
<p> {Clear.} Gabrielle supplied. {The English supposedly have a small patrol hereabouts but we haven't seen it. The army is still a fair distance back.} She edged a bit to one side and casually let her staff drop one side, barring Fox from a close approach. {We ran into some bandits last night but they're in custody now.}</p>
<p> The man nodded. {That's good.}</p>
<p> {What are you running from? The French?}</p>
<p> The question provoked a shudder from the woman traveller. {They attacked our farm this morning. They had already robbed and killed our neighbours.}</p>
<p> {Are any of you hurt? My friend is a healer.} The bard pointed to Dana.</p>
<p> {No, we're fine but they destroyed our home. The partisan who saved us from those beasts told us to go south. She said there was a larger force in the area.}</p>
<p> {A partisan?} Fox interrupted, having recognised that Spanish word. "Ask them if they've seen 'La Princesa Guerrera'" He instructed unnecessarily.</p>
<p> The woman shrank back, crossing herself. Her quick stream of emphatic Spanish had Fox grimacing as he tried to pick out some words he recognised. "What's she saying, Gabrielle?" He demanded.</p>
<p> "Shut up Fox." The bard shouted. "You're upsetting them. Back off and let me talk to them."</p>
<p> Mulder's shoulders squared up and his chin raised.  He didn't get another word out before the angry Amazon turned on him. "I said shut the fuck up. Step away and let me do this or you're going to be sorry."</p><p> Fox took a reflexive step backwards from the steely gaze Gabrielle had fixed on him.</p>
<p> Dana moved closer and dared to lay a steadying hand on her fiancee's arm. "Can you catch any of it?"</p>
<p> "French soldiers...  three, I think...  something dead or killing." Fox's brow was furrowed. "Something about running away." He shook his head, fidgeting as Gabrielle continued to talk.</p>
<p> Finally, after some head nods and gestures, the couple and their children continued on down the road. "Let's go." Gabrielle threw back as she headed off at a brisk walk.</p>
<p> Fox and Dana exchanged a confused glance then hurried to catch up with the angry storyteller. The Irish woman dared to call out. "Gabrielle, what's wrong? What did they tell you?"</p>
<p> The Amazon wanted to ignore the questions but was beginning to feel guilty for her abrupt manner with Fox. You put up with this from me, didn't you love? I never realised how hard it was for you. Gabrielle was reminded of the time when she first travelled with Xena. The warrior was always so quiet and the bard hadn't yet learned to read the subtle signs of her moods. I don't know how you kept your temper so well controlled. You never snapped at me like I just did to Fox.</p>
<p> The bard turned back to her companions. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't like what I was hearing and it set me off. I shouldn't have yelled at you." She tried to pull her emotions under control and then started to pass on the news. "Xena stopped some French soldiers from killing that family." Gabrielle began walking again, picking up the pace as Fox and Dana moved to join her. "She killed all three of them." The blonde informed them. "Xena told those people that the soldiers had already killed and burned the neighbouring farm...  also that more French would be coming so they should take off. Odds are that she'll be ghosting somewhere about the area."</p>
<p> "How far?" Fox questioned quietly, not wanting to upset the volatile woman.</p>
<p> "We're moving faster than those refugees." She reasoned. "If we eat dinner out of our packs as we walk we can be at their farm before it gets dark."</p>
<p> Both Gabrielle and Mulder looked at Dana but neither gaze held scorn.</p>
<p> Dana returned the look and realised that they were wondering if she could keep up to them. "I can manage." The Irish woman assured them. "Let's get moving." She began walking faster, head high.</p>
<p> "Xena took out three soldiers?" Fox sought to convey his interest by fishing for details.</p>
<p> "The soldiers were wreaking mindless havoc. They would have killed the family. That farmer said as much." Gabrielle justified.</p>
<p> "Good." Fox validated.</p>
<p> He's a soldier. The bard reminded herself. Of course he understands. She shot a worried look backward. Gabrielle hoped that Dana understood the situation as well. It sounded as if Xena's dispatching of her enemies was on the bloody side. It certainly had disturbed the farmwife, although the woman admitted her gratitude now that the shock had worn off.</p>
<p> "Xena can be a bit...  enthusiastic...  when it comes to fighting." Gabrielle said softly to Fox. "We might want to keep Dana back from the scene of the battle...  it's pretty messy according to the farmer." She wasn't sure if she should have said that. Dana might not appreciate being shielded.</p>
<p> Mulder nodded. "No problem." He agreed. "I'll go in and run through evidence if you want...  find us a trail. You could keep Dana back if you think it's needful...  although...  " He temporised. "Dana's been doing healer's work back home. I doubt anything your Princesa could do would disturb her that much." Mulder supposed aloud. "She must have seen some fairly gruesome sights in her time, Gabrielle." He grimaced. "I'm used to what weapons and fighting can do to a body...  but the aftermath, the attempts to mend the damage...  and then there are diseases." A shiver ran up his back. "That end of things scares the crap out of me because fighting back doesn't help, you have to rely on potions and surgeons instead of your own strength." The tone of voice he used on the 'surgeons' almost turned it into a curse.</p>
<p> Gabrielle's stare was appraising. "You don't think much of the healing arts, do you Fox?"</p>
<p> "I'm sure Dana does fine birthing babies and cleaning up after farm accidents but most...  healers...  " Mulder shook his head. "I just don't trust them." He laughed grimly at some stray thought. "I find it hard to trust anyone lately. I've slammed into far too many walls in my life. The people I expect to do right by me are usually the ones doing the slamming...  but then I meet you on the road and you don't know me from Adam but we mentally click. You remind me of Skinner in that way. Maybe I should keep all the friendships that I really care about at the 'look but don't touch' level. That way I won't hurt them and they won't hurt me." Fox stared sideways into her face a moment. A distant expression crossed his face and his tone dropped into a distracted whisper. "Christ but you've got eyes to tear a man's soul apart, Gabrielle. Green eyes drive me absolutely insane. They completely destroy any reason I possess."</p>
<p> The blonde almost stopped walking. "What exactly are you talking about Fox?" She squinted at him. "I thought you and Dana were working it out. Don't...  " Gabrielle warned. "Don't even think about messing around with me."</p>
<p> " I just...  I'm sorry. I didn't mean that to...  " Mulder shook his head abruptly, clearing it. "We are. We will." He smiled as he glanced back at Dana. "Sometimes peculiar ideas just smack me out of nowhere. Sorry."</p>
<p> "No damage." Gabrielle said as Dana picked up her pace so they were all even.</p>
<p> Digging food out and passing it around made for a complete change in conversation. As far as Gabrielle could tell Fox had dismissed the odd exchange a moment after it ended. He chewed his way through a hunk of dry meat and gazed about them. Gabrielle used the time to try and find out if Dana had any post-battle experience. No surprise. She hadn't.</p>
<p> The closer they got to the site, the more nervous the blonde grew. Just as their goal came into view, Gabrielle came to a halt. "Maybe you and I should look around the area while Fox goes over the scene, Dana?" The Amazon tested, sweeping her eyes across the landscape.</p>
<p> The red-head pursed her lips. "I understand...  but you don't have to protect me from a few dead bodies." Dana assured her companions. "I'm not a child."</p>
<p> "I doubt it will sit easy on a full stomach." Gabrielle warned. "Xena can be messy when she's fighting."</p>
<p> "I've had time to digest." Dana resumed their march towards the distant farm. It wasn't until she got close enough for the intense smell to reach her that the Irish woman's steps slowed down.</p>
<p> When the fly-infested display became discernible Fox caught at her arm, halting her. "Dana, I want you to stay back here, please, as a favour to me." He caught her gaze with his. "Please." He repeated, wanting to give her a graceful way out of approaching the carnage.</p>
<p> For a moment it appeared as if Dana would continue to protest, then she nodded. "All right. If it means that much to you."</p>
<p> "Thank you." Mulder stepped around his fiancee, heading for the wagon wheels. His head was bent to one side and his eyes darted, taking in the wealth of information the scene had to offer.</p>
<p> Gabrielle hesitated at Dana's side. They watched Mulder begin his investigation in silence for a moment before the storyteller asked. "Are you okay? Or are we coddling you too much?"</p>
<p> "It's all right. I'm fine here." Still, the redhead ventured just a bit closer, unable to completely believe what her eyes were suggesting. "If you're alright why don't you go help Fox sort out what happened."</p>
<p> "Are you sure?"</p>
<p> "I'm fine." Dana repeated. "Go ahead."</p>
<p> Gabrielle sighed and headed in to the heart of destruction. She noted the burned out house first. The fact that the ground was stained rusty red-brown hit her next. The bard came to stop at Mulder's side. One hand lifted to shield her mouth and nose.</p>
<p> He didn't even acknowledge her arrival visually. Every scrap of attention he possessed was devoted to the dead man before him. "God-damn, Gabrielle, these are so fucking impressive." Fox murmured as he rose from a crouch beside the nearest suspended body.</p>
<p> The bard, appalled at the spectacle before her, barely flinched at the sudden shift in Mulder's speech patterns.</p>
<p> "Your Princesa is an artist." Fox carefully peeled back a bit of crusty blue uniform. His concentration fixed on the body before him. "Can you see this? Look at the precision behind her slices." He wished he could convey his admiration straight to Xena, but her companion had to be the next best thing. "No hesitation cuts." Fox couldn't help but compare the work to some of the tortures he had seen performed back in Canada. Eyota was an expert at extracting information from reluctant captives but the approach here was completely different. This was done with the objective of panicking other French soldiers, a hardened lot at the best of times. Diverted by his fascination Fox never even realised that Gabrielle was shaking her head in shock. He walked a circle around the wagon wheel. "The presentation wasn't done until after death...  but they didn't go quietly. You can see...  most of their blood closer to the barn." The soldiers' backs and heels were smeared with bloody soil. A trail marked where the bodies had been dragged through the foul dirt.</p>
<p> "Gods! What has she done?" Gabrielle whispered.</p>
<p> "Not a musket ball anywhere." He continued. "The strength behind these slices is incredible. It looks like she cut through his ribcage on a downstroke...  that's why this one's innards are scattered over there." Fox gestured absently.</p>
<p> Gabrielle looked from one corpse to the other with an expression of complete horror twisting her pretty features out of shape. "She's...  this is too much." Her voice was an almost breathless whisper. She and Xena used to hunt down warlords who used these kind of tactics in order to bring them to justice. To be confronted with the sight of her lover employing those very same methods was staggering.</p>
<p> "There's more." Mulder announced with a fierce grin, still overlooking his friend's distress. "Turn around and check out the barn door." He left the two wheels, with their grisly burdens, to stride across the wide yard. "The birds have started at this one as well as the flies." Fox observed, lifting his arm to muffle the assault on his nose and to keep from inhaling a part of the swarm. Still he bent forward to examine the suspended Sergeant. "When your Princesa sets up a scarecrow she goes all out." His voice was muffled by his sleeve.</p>
<p> Gabrielle wrapped her arms around herself. A distressed squeak escaped as she looked from one gruesome spectacle to the other.  "This one died here." Fox pointed. "You can see he wiggled a bit on the bayonet, just a little." He knelt, investigating the dead man's amputations.</p><p> Gabrielle closed her eyes but that only super-imposed shadows of similar deaths on top of this one...  other bodies pinned and rotting away. This mode of killing suggested that Xena's descent into darkness was spiralling faster than she had feared. A part of her heart was already whispering 'too late'. Xena had lost it.</p>
<p> Dana's touch on her shoulder was a shock. Gabrielle hadn't realised the other woman had joined them in the yard. Dana shifted, wrapping her arm around the blonde and leaning.</p>
<p> "I'm here, me darlin'. It's going to be all right." The delicately accented voice was a comfort.</p>
<p> "I'm sorry you have to see this." Gabrielle mumbled.</p>
<p> "I wish I could say I've seen worse." Dana's expression was pinched.</p>
<p> "I have." Mulder stood up. "But not by much." His own work had never approached this level of artistry. Usually time constraints or his own inhibitions halted the process before he could use every trick he'd been taught. Fox left the women so he could look over the trampled ground for more clues.</p>
<p> "You didn't expect this?" Dana had to turn away from the corpse. "Her behaviour surprises you?"</p>
<p> "I knew that Xena was upset...  that she had lost perspective, but this kind of...  savagery...  on the dead...  . " The bard's golden hair shook back and forth.</p>
<p> "It was a heat of the moment thing. I'm sure she had her reasons."</p>
<p> "Yes, I know." Gabrielle admitted. "I'm positive she had rational justification for killing these men. She was saving lives." Emerald eyes swept the area. "But can you honestly think of any circumstances that would provoke you to do anything like this to someone?"</p>
<p> "No, I can't." Dana admitted. "But I'm not that kind of a person. Look at Fox. He doesn't seem to be bothered by Xena's...  burst of creativity. In fact he looks fascinated."</p>
<p> They stood together in silence for a while, both of them trying not to stare at the nearby tableaux. Finally Gabrielle pulled out of the loose embrace. Her head still shaking in mute denial.  "There's been a lot of traffic in and out of this place." Fox finished his inspection. "A couple of horses...  but not together, some donkeys and a whole lot of people." He listed. "I've pinpointed which ones are your Princesa's tracks in some spots but they've been trampled out by a large group almost everywhere. I'm fairly sure she took one horse up that incline." Mulder pointed to the ridge that seemed to parallel the narrow country road. "The large group seems to have come from and returned the same way...  down there."</p><p> "More soldiers?" Dana asked.</p>
<p> "That would be the sensible conclusion." He frowned down at the bloody dirt, gradually shifting his gaze up the road. "They've been gone a while. It should be safe to follow them without risking an encounter."</p>
<p> "Shouldn't we be chasing Xena?" The Irish woman questioned.</p>
<p> "I'll bet she's shadowing the soldiers from above." Fox reasoned. "She'll be stalking them." His gaze traced the line of the ridge. "If we track these soldiers we'll probably find Xena's path crossing theirs as soon as the rise fades down to level. It's what I'd do in her place. Does that sound about right, Gabrielle? You know your friend."</p>
<p> "Yeah, sure." The blonde agreed in a distracted voice. Furrows marked her brow.</p>
<p> "Great." He took in another encompassing look. "Let's go then."</p>
<p> "Shouldn't we take these men down and bury them?" Dana turned a pity filled gaze on the suspended bodies.</p>
<p> "If their own people couldn't be bothered, why should we?" Fox forestalled Gabrielle's possible agreement with an immediate refusal. "I'm sure they earned this fate. Besides, we haven't got the time to spare. Evening is rushing in on us. I need a certain amount of light to track and I'm afraid it's going to be a dark night." His fingers flicked toward the sky. "Lots of cloud cover."</p>
<p> Gabrielle nodded. "He's right Dana." Her voice was hollow. "We don't really have the time to spare or the equipment. No shovels." She turned away. "Let's see where everyone was heading in such a hurry, Fox."</p>
<p> The pair of them started down the rutted track. With a wince of regret Dana followed along. They travelled in absolute silence. Gabrielle seemed to be struggling with some internal dilemma. Fox's eyes were never still, watching before, behind, and to either side of them. He shifted his hands absently over the rifle he held ready. Both their moods pressed at Dana, keeping her uncomfortably quiet. Her relief almost made her giddy when, after what felt like forever, the road widened indicating another farm. The trio separated.</p>
<p> "Stay where I can see you Dana." Fox cautioned, heading into the farmyard. Once again the only noise was the heavy thrum of scores of flies.</p>
<p> Gabrielle surged forward. The hard knot in her stomach twisted into yet another bend. Once could be dismissed as anger run amok but if Xena had repeated the atrocities after riding between farms...  The bard bit down on her bottom lip and walked into the centre of the destruction.</p>
<p> "Two large graves...  both of them are freshly made. One is marked with a pair of French names. The other is anonymous." Fox observed loudly from far off to the left.</p>
<p> Gabrielle took another step closer, noticing smudged writing on the side of a shed. Someone had gone to the trouble of eradicating part of the charcoal scribbling, the first two words of it anyway. The rest of it was a bit smeared but legible. Gabrielle didn't have too much trouble deciphering the threatening French words. The message made it plain that Xena was planning to hunt down and kill the soldiers like rabid dogs.</p>
<p> "What is it?" Dana's whisper was right at the blonde's ear, surprising her yet again.</p>
<p> "A declaration of war." Gabrielle looked away.</p>
<p> Mulder joined the women as soon as he finished poking about near the dirt piles. "They were caught by surprise." Fox decided from his examination of the evidence. "Not much of a fight. She took them down pretty quickly...  over there...  near the grave." He clarified, his eyes swept the fence noting some odd smears of blood. "It looks like she...  " Fox paused, glancing to the ground then back up again. "I'd guess she had a pair of heads or some body part mounted on these pickets at one point. Look at the way the blood has trickled down the paint all the way around.</p>
<p> Gabrielle flinched.</p>
<p> "It's too bad the French took the time to clean up here or it would be as impressive as the last farm, I expect." Mulder finally paused to read the writing on the shed. He stared up at the note, eyes narrowed. "Her strategy is classic."</p>
<p> The admiration in Fox's voice made Gabrielle's stomach pinch yet again. "This wasn't done in defence of anyone. This is...  "</p>
<p> "This is war, Gabrielle. There are no good choices here...  only lesser degrees of evil. You may disapprove, but these are valid tactics in the face of a superior force." Fox stated in a perfectly serious voice.</p>
<p> "Gods!" Her green eyes went painfully wide at his devestating choice of words. She backed away from him with an expression of disgust, clamping down on the response that automatically leap to her lips. "Just...  don't talk to me right now." Gabrielle turned her back on the Canadian and paced to the edge of the farmyard.</p>
<p> Dana frowned. "Civilised people don't fight like this. Even war has rules, Fox." She announced firmly. "A code of conduct applies."</p>
<p> "Maybe in nice orderly battles where Generals sit astride their horses and supervise...  " He countered. "But on the edge of the conflict where it's just me and one or two others...  " Fox stared her down. "Winning and surviving matter more than some text-book set of ideals and conduct. This...  " He pointed to the stained fencing. "...  may be messy but if even one soldier deserted in fear then it was worth the Princesa's effort. She's fighting a column of twenty-odd men, alone. I can't help but admire her rather ruthless practicality."</p>
<p> Dana stared at Fox. "I don't understand." She admitted. "What's the message say? What is Xena trying to do?"</p>
<p> Mulder's mouth crooked into a slight smile. "The message is from La Princesa Guerrera, basically it says that these farmers didn't deserve their fate and calls the men who did it butchers. She's holding the officers responsible and warning the soldiers that they had better not get in her way." Fox summarised. "Her tactics are classic." He reiterated his admiration yet again. "She's trying to get the men to desert or even turn on their officers. That way she has better odds. The bodies are warnings too. The Princesa attempts to provoke the same response...  as well as to fluster the French so they aren't thinking clearly."</p>
<p> Dana's upper lip curled. "And why did they bury their losses here...  but not at the other farm? Has Xena disturbed them that much?"</p>
<p> "She must have panicked them into rushing back here, possibly to collect whoever all this blood belongs to. So in a matter of hours she's already whittled at least five men off. This is the kind of thing I had to do back home a few times but I usually had a bit of help. Her efficiency is...  " He trailed off, finally realising that Dana didn't share his enthusiasm. "What?" Fox questioned the expression of annoyance she aimed at him.</p>
<p> "You honestly don't even realise what you're doing." The small woman decided. "You're actually excited by all this." Her tone was amazed. "Fox, look at what you've done to Gabrielle. Think about what you've been saying."</p>
<p> He hesitated, then did as Dana instructed, only to see the blonde still ignoring him. The bard's shoulders trembled and her head was bowed. "But, Gabrielle is as much a warrior as I am. She's travelled with the Princesa. She must have seen the woman in action before this."</p>
<p> Dana shook her dusty red hair. "You don't understand. What we saw at the other farm...  what appears to have happened here...  Gabrielle cares deeply for Xena, more deeply than you realise and all this...  " She waved her hand over the stained earth. "It's a sign of someone who's loosing their grasp on civilisation. Gabrielle is worried about her friend." Dana gazed over at the still woman.</p>
<p> "In other words...  " Fox's voice had lost it's edge of excitement and fallen into a dull monotone. "It would take a pretty sick mind to commit...  or appreciate what the Princesa has done. Is that what you mean?"</p>
<p>
 "I know what you meant. You meant that I obviously lack any awareness for the gentler set of human emotions. Don't be embarrassed to say it aloud. You certainly won't be the first to tell me such and I doubt you'll be the last." The words came out in a flood, allowing her no space to interrupt. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd best find the trail before we loose daylight for I doubt either of you 'ladies' wish to spend the night near the scene of the Princesa's corruption." Fox spun on his heel and walked away.</p><p> Dana pressed her hands into her tired eyes to beat back the headache currently threatening. Her feet took a few random steps while she decided what to do next. Just as she decided to try her luck talking to Gabrielle a splash of burgundy amid some broken crockery caught her eye. Dana picked up the small volume and flipped it open to confirm what she suspected. "Fox!" Her shout was strong enough to turn Gabrielle around and bring Mulder running back. At his questioning glare Dana held out the burgundy covered book. "It's my diary. I found it on the ground."</p>
<p> "Bloody hell." Fox hissed. "Then he's already hooked up with the French. We're going." He stated. "Now! We've got no time to piss around here."</p>
<p> Gabrielle's chin raised. "I agree." The bard didn't even bother attempting to wipe away the marks that her tears had made. "Find her for me Fox. I want to catch up with her...  tonight."</p>
<p> "But Alex is with the French!" He protested in unthinking rage. "Besides it's a damned sight easier to trail a column of twenty than to locate the steps of a single partisan...  even if they do cross paths at some point down the road." He reminded the blonde in a slightly more controlled tone.</p>
<p> "Then it's a good thing that you're the best." Gabrielle challenged. "Start with one, find the other. She needs me...  she's teetering on the edge. I got you this far Fox. You owe me. Find Xena." The Amazon queen ordered in her most regal tone.</p>
<p> They could see his throat working to hold back a responding bellow.</p>
<p> Mulder finally responded to her cool authority after a few jaw clenches and toe scuffs. "As long as the light holds." He walked off, eyes to the ground. His mumble was almost lost to the distance he put between them. "Come on. They went this way."</p>
<hr/>
<p>
<i>XENA: "I've got that answer to your question. Are you who you are..or are you who I made you. Nobody made you who you are, it was already there. The question is, who would I be without you?"</i></p>
<p>It didn't surprise Etienne that as soon as his tent was pitched the Colonel excused himself and crawled inside. The younger man's yawns had been almost continuous since they had stopped to make camp. It was altogether too early in the evening for the Major to turn in however. Navarre stalled, growing more apprehensive about entering the enclosed space as the time passed. Considering the subtle encouragement that the Englishman had been sending Etienne's way over the course of the day there was little doubt in the Major's mind that Alexander would welcome a sexual encounter with his captor. There was no use denying it to himself. Etienne was attracted to the younger man, but so many dangers were inherent into giving in to that desire. An impropriety with another man was the cause of most of the problems that plagued Navarre's life and career right now. That the Colonel was an English prisoner would magnify the harm the situation could do to Etienne's already shaky standing with his superiors in the army.  The Major prowled about the camp. He checked the pickets himself, cautioned the men to vigilance and was pleased to discover that Sergeant Bascar had come up with a few line traps to aid perimeter security. Right about now Navarre couldn't help but wish for another dozen men.</p><p> The camp should have been fairly still. Every off duty man should have either settled onto his bedroll or be eating quietly. The movement near his tent that caught Navarre's eye was completely unexpected. Etienne crept up cautiously and peered inside. He wasn't sure which surprised him more...  that someone was attempting to harm their prisoner, or that the someone was Sergeant Moncrieff.</p>
<p> "I know what you're thinking, Brit." Moncrieff had the Colonel by the front of his shirt and was shaking him hard enough to rattle the younger man's teeth. "You think your ally is going to pull you out of this no worse for wear by picking us off one at a time." Moncrieff landed a hard backhand. "Are you leaving a trail for her, boy? Those last two were fine men. If they died because of you...  "</p>
<p> Still disoriented from being dragged out of exhausted sleep and dreams of Malais' death, Aleksandr's defense wasn't up to the challenge. He had rolled up all but one of his knives in his green jacket for fear of Navarre coming across them later in the night. His responses were just a little too slow. An attempt to dig into his attacker's eyes was effortlessly batted away. The shaking got worse and Alek felt his shirt tear away. Moncrieff was just shifting his grip to a hank of heavy hair when they were interrupted.</p>
<p> "Sergeant Moncrieff. Unhand the prisoner at once." Etienne ordered.</p>
<p> "You've not seen the looks he's been aiming at your back all day." Alek's assailant protested. "He's in on it with the Princesa, Sir. He must have led her to us."</p>
<p> "Sergeant Malais' behaviour was what drew the Princesa's attention, Sergeant. Colonel Alexander has nothing to do with it...  and he gave his parole." Navarre caught at his burly man's arm. "Let him go and step outside immediately."</p>
<p> "Sir, yes Sir." Still, Moncrieff couldn't resist one last shot. He attempted to crack the Englishman's head, throwing him to the ground with every bit of strength he possessed.</p>
<p> Aleksandr rolled with the toss, sparing himself worse damage. He was well practised in taking a fall. {Filthy, God-damned bastard. Don't you touch me again or I'll fucking slit your throat!} He spat out the threat in English, not wanting to completely destroy his credibility with Navarre. The tone was more important than the words.</p>
<p> "Traitorous English whelp!" Moncrieff snarled back.</p>
<p> "ENOUGH!" The Major shoved his subordinate outside. "See to your duties, Moncrieff. I'll deal with your conduct soon enough." Navarre turned back to his prisoner. "How badly did he hurt you, Colonel?"</p>
<p> "I've had worse." Alek admitted in a rather off-hand manner. He shoved his suspenders off his shoulders and pulled off his nearly ruined shirt with a put-upon sigh. The sleeve was put to use, blotting at the blood that ran down the side of his mouth. "I don't have a spare." The spy complained.</p>
<p> "You can use one of mine. Moncrieff will repair and wash your's tomorrow. My pack is in the corner, help yourself." Navarre offered.</p>
<p> "Thank you." Aleksandr ran his tongue over his teeth as he turned and squatted beside the Major's gear. No loose teeth, luckily enough. Moncrieff was a good-sized oaf but his blows were no match for some Alek had taken from Malais. The spy bent slightly to open the pack in front of him, well aware that Navarre was watching closely and that the fabric of his trousers would tighten over his ass.</p>
<p> A brief bit of moonlight was currently illuminating the inside of the tent and Etienne used the glow to run an appreciative glance at the view the Colonel was offering him, but what really caught his eye was the younger man's right shoulder blade. Navarre frowned at the two letters he could see shaped into the pale flesh and made a leap of reasoning. The Major recalled one of the nastier stories he had overheard amid the Sergeant's constant bragging, one about marking his property with his initals to proclaim ownership.  Aleksandr had extracted a clean shirt from the Major's belongings but made no move to put it on. "You saved me...  again. Every few hours seem to drag me deeper into your debt." The Russian smiled up at the other man. One hand lifted to slowly scrape his long bangs back out of his eyes. "Thank you, Etienne." He said softly. "You're a fine man."</p><p> "Not so good as I could be." Navarre tried to decide how to approach the puzzle that had been presented to him. "Else I wouldn't have had the likes of Sergeant Malais in my company." He tested, watching the younger man's face carefully for clues.</p>
<p> "But the Princesa has removed that problem."</p>
<p> "A good man would have tended to Malais himself." Navarre knelt down, shrugging his shoulders. "Unfortunately he was thrust upon me by someone I didn't dare to refuse. I should warn you...  " He sat. "The man who controlled Sergeant Malais is the same man who will eventually question you. Major Ducos." There it was, Etienne saw the evidence of a cringe although it was carefully controlled.</p>
<p> "The name means nothing to me." Aleksandr lied. He shifted closer, hoping to end this uncomfortable conversation by distracting the Major with his physical proximity.</p>
<p> "It should." Navarre backed up. "It's important you realise what you're up against, Alex. He's an underhanded, snake of a man with no honour and little respect for the rules. He's going to be the one interrogating you."</p>
<p> Aleksandr's bottom lip protruded. "Why are you telling me this?"</p>
<p> "Ducos...  " The Major hesitated. "Ducos is responsible for the ruin of my career. He's blocked every possiblity of promotion that's come my way so that he can continue to enlist me in his black schemes." Etienne rubbed his forehead. "I got involved in a less than acceptable situation with another man some time back...   I promoted him inappropriately, taking my affection into greater account than his skills. That man turned out to be less than ethical. He told Ducos...  gave over some embarrassing details in exchange for forwarding his own career."</p>
<p> "Perhaps you overestimate the damage it would do if people knew of your preferences." The spy suggested.</p>
<p> "It would kill my parents." Navarre stated flatly. "Perhaps everything else could be endured. This is a war. I'm a good soldier. It wouldn't help my position but I might not be ruined, still...  my mother and father would be destroyed if they ever found out that their chance of becoming grandparents was slim to naught...  that I...  " His head shook. "Ducos threatens them whenever I attempt to refuse any of his requests...  not just their lack of knowledge about my tastes...  but their very lives. I'm their only child and Father isn't as young as he used to be. There is no one at home to protect them if Ducos turned his malice in their direction."</p>
<p> That was a situation Aleksandr could sympathise with. "You can trust that this...  Ducos person...  will get nothing out of me, Etienne." He closed the distance separating them. Between Alek's need to settle the Major down and his honest attraction seducing the man was the only path he wished to consider. The signals that Navarre had been giving off all day had convinced Alek that the desire was mutual. The confession just now had proved Etienne was no innocent in regards to sex between two men. The Russian lifted his hand to skim his fingers across the swell of the older man's chest.</p>
<p> "Don't." Etienne caught at the other's wrist. "The men might hear." His muted protest sounded token even to his own ears. Still, he didn't dare indulge, not knowing who Krycek really was.</p>
<p> "I can be quiet. No one will ever know. Your men won't realise." Alek promised. As if the men cared whether their commander fucked about with the prisoner. Aleksandr had noticed two of those same soldiers sizing him up for the blankets over the course of the day. He dropped his hand to cup Etienne's cloth covered erection. "I know you want me." The spy stated plainly.</p>
<p>
 {S'il vous plait, Etienne.} Alek persisted, rubbing himself against his target. "I want you so much."</p><p> Navarre decided. There was no way he could flat out refuse such a temptation. He needed to know if the spy could be turned. "Not like this, Alex." He caught at the younger man and eased them down until they lay alongside one another. "I've been wanting to do THIS all day." Etienne stole one kiss after another, each one a little longer and more searching than the one before it. His fingers petted, attempting to settle the younger man, as well as enjoying the luxurious contact.</p>
<p> Aleksandr relaxed into the sensual assault after a brief startle of surprise. Simple kissing was a rare treat. The men he usually seduced seldom cared for Alek's enjoyment of the act, preferring the spy to see to their pleasure first. Fox's life had been spared partially because the Canadian had paid attention to Aleksandr's needs as well as his own. To find another lover so soon who seemed to care was a pleasant shock. Lost in the delightful stimulation of the moment, the Russian didn't pay any mind as eager hands began sliding up his bare spine. It wasn't until one fingertip brushed back and forth across the pattern of scars on his right shoulder blade that Aleksandr realised a possible danger. He tried to casually shift away from the touch but Etienne's arms tightened, holding him still.</p>
<p> "What is this?" Navarre ran his finger over the damaged skin, tracing out the letters. He needed to get the younger man talking.</p>
<p> Alek laughed. "A youthful indiscretion...  attempting to impress a girl named Felisa Margell, rather unsuccessfully I must add." That was the lie he customarily told about the initials carved into him.</p>
<p> Etienne forced the other's hand. "You're Malais' spy." He said calmly. Navarre's grip tightened, although he was careful not to hurt. Strangely enough Alex didn't struggle against the restraint. "Aren't you?"</p>
<p> "Etienne." Aleksandr rocked his hips. "Do you really care one way or the other right now?" He murmured against the Major's ear. His mouth brushed warm skin. Most of his knives were out of reach but he wasn't unarmed. It was just a matter of staying calm and keeping the older man docile until the right moment.</p>
<p> "You work for Ducos. Your name is Krycek." Etienne announced in a level tone.</p>
<p> "Alex." He reiterated. "My name really is Alex." Close to it anyway. "Let go of my arms, Etienne. I wasn't lying about this, about what I want from you. I want to touch you. Please. I won't tell Ducos. I won't tell anyone. I swear." His tongue flicked out, tasting sweat and dust.</p>
<p> "What kind of man are you?" Navarre sucked in a deep breath and his grip eased slightly. "I can't trust you. You didn't even flinch when we found Malais. You weren't going to tell me." Etienne needed reasons. He needed to know exactly where the other stood.</p>
<p> "Christ. That's not important right now." Aleksandr complained from deep in his throat. "Are you made of stone?" He writhed, nipping at the other's jaw.</p>
<p> "Part of me feels like it, right now." Etienne admitted, almost laughing. Damn but the spy was an intoxicating handful. "What the hell are you up to? I need the truth from you, Alex." His expression grew more serious.</p>
<p> "The truth...  the truth...  there is no truth. It just doesn't matter. This matters. This is all that ever matters." Alek squirmed seductively and the chain of the heavy silver cross he wore around his neck jingled .</p>
<p> Etienne released one of his captive's arms and caught at the necklace, using it like a leash to pull Alex tight against him. "Talk to me, damn it!"</p>
<p> "Calm down." The Russian gently extracted the ornament from Navarre's fingers. "I'm not going anywhere. I can explain everything." He assured the other, pulling the cross over to one side as he dropped his mouth requesting another kiss.</p>
<p> Etienne cursed himself for an idiot but that didn't stop him from taking pleasure in the soft lips that Alex offered.</p>
<p> A tiny slide of the Russian's thumb released the catch holding the cross together and the tiny razor-like blade slid free. Just one more death. Aleksandr promised. This is the last one, Mama. I know what I said earlier, but...  </p>
<p> "Alex...  I wish I could trust you." Navarre began, his hands seemed to have developed a mind of their own, forgeting that he was supposed to be holding the younger man still. His fingers ran reverently across warm skin. "I can't believe how beautiful you are...  you're almost pretty. I thought that as soon as I saw you this morning. So gorgeous. How could you bear to let Malais touch you? How can you work for those animals?"</p>
<p> "Hush." The Russian pressed the knife against the older man's throat, prepared to slice as soon as Navarre drew breath in to shout for help. Instead the Major went completely still underneath him.</p>
<p> "You don't have to do that, Alex." Etienne realised instantly what the stinging sensation at his throat was.  "You're the problem." The Russian accused. "Be quiet."</p><p> "I suspect if I was your only problem I'd already be dead. Please, Alec. Why?" Etienne continued to use the smoother sounding name since he felt an obvious reaction in the tense body holding him down at each vocalisation. "I thought you meant to gather more blackmail material. Ducos can't blackmail a dead man."</p>
<p> "I really am tired." Aleksandr finally divulged. "I told you that before."</p>
<p> "And lost." Navarre reminded him of his earlier words. "On my honour, Alec, I'm not about to call out. Look at the position we're in, for God's sake. Take the knife away and tell me what's really going on." He requested. Inspiration hit like a lightening strike. "Pazhaluysta." Navarre had picked up only a few bits and pieces of other languages over the years but that single Russian word for 'please' boded to save his life.</p>
<p> The spy drew back as if burned.</p>
<p> "Alec, talk to me." Etienne coaxed.</p>
<p> "Aleksandr." The whisper was painfully faint. He wasn't really certain what possessed him to give away the name he was born to. "Aleksandr Viktorvich Krycek." His Russian accent emerged as he spoke that name for the first time in years.</p>
<p> "Aleksandr Viktorvich Krycek." Etienne repeated carefully, a bit louder. "A fine old name."</p>
<p> Gods, but it was seductive to hear his formal name aloud. No one but his brother and sister had pronounced even part of it properly in years. Not that he had gone about offering the name up.  "Is Ducos your problem?" Navarre tested, refusing to let the silence remind the spy of his task. "Come on Aleksandr. Give me a clue."</p><p> "I'm so fucking tired of this shit. I want out." Alek declared.</p>
<p> "I understand." Etienne soothed. "I told you. I've trouble with the son of a bitch as well."</p>
<p> "Don't patronise me, Major. No one UNDERSTANDS. Not one living soul UNDERSTANDS." Alek contradicted. His voice was quiet, yet forceful. "He's got little of real value to hold over your head. Ducos demands trifles from you...  concessions that barely upset your perfect little life."</p>
<p> "So tell me about it, Aleksandr. I'm not doing much at the moment...  and you could always kill me afterwards."</p>
<p> That earned a hissing exhale from the spy that might have been a choked off laugh.</p>
<p> "Tell me what happened to drag YOU into this." Navarre repeated the request.</p>
<p> Why the hell not? Alek sighed. "I had a big family...  four sisters and a brother, Mama and Papa...  lots of friends. We were members of the nobility." He explained in a hushed tone. "Then Malais and his men came." He shivered. "Malais...  the man was a devil. I saw him in action. They came...  " His voice caught. "Instead of burning everything and running away as we were told to do...  Papa made the foolish mistake of thinking he could bargain with Sergeant Malais and his lot. He died fast, riddled with musket balls." Almost unseen in the darkness, Aleksandr rocked slightly. He had never actually recited the story aloud before. It surprised him, not so much that it hurt, he had expected that. What amazed him was that a certain amount of relief also came from telling of the tale aloud. "Mother and three of my sisters were raped...  then murdered within sight of each other. Malais smashed Zhenya's head open. He cracked it against the floor while he was still inside her. Pavel, he was my...  friend. He saw it all. He told me afterwards." A heavy, shaking breath interrupted the monologue. "Some of the servants were sliced open and hung up while the men laid bets on how long it would take for them to die. Pavel...   He shouldn't have spoken to me, not where Malais could see him."</p>
<p> Etienne winced, suspecting there was even more to the tale that the young man couldn't bring himself to expound on.</p>
<p> "I tried to protect Tati and Dima. I tried to take them and run but we got caught near the stables. The three of us were all that...  " Alek's head shook. "Malais beat me to a bloody mess to get me to tell him where our valuables were hidden. I held off for as long as I could, but then when he grabbed Tati I caved. I told him the location of every single thing of value on the estate. She was only ten, just a baby."</p>
<p> Navarre's upper lip curled. Threatening children was a tactic for cowards.</p>
<p> "He turned us into pets...  slaves. I tried to spare the kids, to save them from the worst of Malais'...  amusements. Afterwards I watched him rape and pillage his way across my homeland." Alek's brows were together, forming a small crease. "I've seen the things nightmares are made of, Major." He faltered. "Malais committed them in the beginning, now I do."</p>
<p> Etienne frowned. The description of Malais' activities was certainly in line with the evidence he had come across over the last little while. Still, the last few words Aleksandr had uttered were the ones that disturbed him the most. "So why do you continue? Why continue to take Ducos' orders?"</p>
<p> The Russian's tone was overlain with a complex pattern of emotions. "I still have Tatyana and Dimitri. They're all I have left in the world. Absolutely nothing matters more than their safety." The anger threatened again at mention of his siblings but he kept it forced down. "I've been working for Malais...  for Ducos...  so he would keep them in safety."</p>
<p> "Now Malais is dead." Etienne prompted.</p>
<p> "And for all Ducos knows...  so am I. Malais was the one who actually held my leash. Ducos may give me another fortnight before he decides I'm a lost cause...  maybe less once he receives news of Malais' death." The Russian's back twisted slightly, attempting to prevent a cramp. "I have to get to Paris before he sends someone to deal with Tati and Dima."</p>
<p> "You say you've done all this for your brother and sister." The Major said. "You must care very deeply for them, Aleksandr." Navarre wasn't prepared for the reaction to his words. The spy lunged without warning, flattening Etienne with his full body weight and that wicked little blade threatened his jugular once more.</p>
<p> "Don't." Alek warned. "Don't you dare underrate what I feel with some frivolous, incidental platitude. I have spent the last six years crawling through shit deep enough to drown the likes of you just to keep them safe and clean." He hissed. "I have to get them out. I can't continue to let their fates ride on the possibility of me surviving more of these missions."</p>
<p> "Aleksandr." Etienne pacified. "I can help you. Honestly. I've no respect for Ducos or his methods. The man is a viper. I told you what he's done to me. He ruined my career. He's threatened my parents. He treats me like some sort of servant. We have a mutual enemy, Aleksandr." He bargained. "You say your brother and sister are in Paris. I have connections there. I know people who would take them in...  good people."</p>
<p> "That's not enough." Alek's head shook. "I have to get them far away from Paris, away to somewhere safe."</p>
<p> "Back to Russia?"</p>
<p> That provoked a curt snort of amusement. "If the Czar ever got his hands on a living member of my family...  after what I've done there." His voice was gritty with strain. "You really have no idea, do you Major? There are more people who want my head on a platter than there are beggars in France."</p>
<p> "It seems you've set yourself quite the task then...  to find somewhere secure and inviting for your siblings." Etienne smiled, not sure if the younger man would see the gesture, but wanting to make it regardless. "I'm thinking a quiet, prosperous winery in Bordeaux might be just the thing." The body stretched out across him went so still it was frightening. Etienne couldn't even feel the other breathing. "Aleksandr?"</p>
<p> "Why would you?" He asked suspiciously. "I want to believe but...  once this knife is away from your throat, why would you bother?" Alek demanded in a cracked whisper.</p>
<p> "I've several reasons actually." Etienne began. "Malais was a monster. Ducos is no better. I can only guess at the extent of the damage they have inflicted on you."</p>
<p> One of the Russian's shoulders lifted in an aborted shrug. "Why should you care?"</p>
<p> "I care about my own parents...  and the estate they're holding. You say you've done horrible things to protect your brother and sister. Would you consider expanding your protection to include my family? Would you turn your talents to keeping my parents secure from threats of damage, physical harm as well as...  more intangible dangers? I need you to make sure that no disturbing...  revelations...  intrude on their lives."</p>
<p> "You want to hire me as a watchdog." Aleksandr clarified. "I can do that." He decided with a considering frown. "Easily." Alek qualified. "But what does this earn for Tati, Dima and I?"</p>
<p> "A safe haven until the war ends and I can come home myself. Perhaps more if my parents take a fancy to your brother. Perhaps a job for your brother and less...  lethal...  training for you. What do you intend to do with the rest of your life, Aleksandr?"</p>
<p> The Russsian hovered, considering all he had learned over the last day. The Major seemed to be an honourable man and the offer was a bargain. "I'd make a lousy vintner." He announced. "But the rest of it sounds good. It's a deal." At least it was a deal until something better came along, or Etienne proved himself untrustworthy. The Lord knew he could use help slipping Tati and Dima out of Paris.</p>
<p> Navarre dared to touch, reaching to smooth his palm down Alek's ribcage. "And this?" When no objection was made to the contact Etienne rose slightly and brush his mouth across the other's soft black hair. "I want you...  to trust me. I want to trust you. This could work out for both of us."</p>
<p> Aleksandr relaxed. His body was one of the least valuable things he was willing and able to sell. If the Major wanted sex to seal the deal he was welcome to it. "And your parents?" A faint click signalled the sheathing of his hidden blade. "How will they take to your sending three Russian refugees their way?"</p>
<p> "I will write and tell them of it as soon as I return to base. If you don't object, I will tell them your sister is my fiancee and the pair of you...  as her brothers are there to see to her comfort and safety until the war is over and things between us can be made legal."</p>
<p> "My SISTER is not...  and will never...  be a bargaining chip." Aleksandr tensed once more.</p>
<p> Etienne nodded. "I know. I understand." He acknowledged. "It's just something to tell my parents. It will secure your welcome and help alleviate any suspicions that might have arised about my preferences. I won't lay a hand on her. I swear it, Aleksandr." Navarre continued to carress the younger man. "It's not your sister I'm interested in."</p>
<p> "You'd best mean that, Etienne." Alek warned. "Anything you want from me...  you can have, but touch Tatyana and I'll turn you into a eunuch, then I'll kill you."</p>
<p> "Nice pillow talk." Navarre shivered as the spy slid up his body to their faces were even once more. His arousal, which had eased off during their confrontation slammed back with a vengeance. Etienne gulped a few breaths of air. "I will give you the names of some people who can help you get your brother and sister out of Paris. I assume you can see them safely to Bordeaux if I provide some funds for transportation." Speech was beginning to fail him. Navarre felt soft lips trace a path from his ear, down his jaw, and a damp tongue lapped at the fading sting from the spy's threats. "When Father gets my letter...  that I'm engaged...  that you're bringing a bride home for me...  my parents will fall all over themselves to make you welcome...  Oh god, Alek!" Etienne squirmed as his clothing was efficiently unfastened, trying hard not to think of how the other's skill had been perfected. "You just keep my parents safe...  and when I get home...  maybe we'll re-negotiate the deal...  if you're willing. Maybe you'll want to stay. We might be able to work something out." The opportunity to actually marry the girl for show while keeping the brother for a lover would make for an ideal situation, Etienne thought, but now wasn't the time to press his luck with the volatile young man.</p>
<p> "Why would you want to to keep us there?" Aleksandr asked, pushing Navarre's clothes away to expose more skin. "Why? Because I can do this?"</p>
<p> Etienne bit his own lip to keep a shout from escaping.</p>
<p> "Or this?" the Russian's mouth teased. "Or is it because...  " His tone thickened. "I'll do things...  let you do things to me that would make a dockside whore blush?"</p>
<p> {Fils de pute, Alek!} Etienne growled. "It could be about more than sex." He touched a gentle finger to one high cheekbone.</p>
<p> {Liar.} Aleksandr accused in German, before lowering his mouth back down to fragrant skin. "But...  " He switched back to French. "...  you don't object to the sex, do you, Etienne? Because I intend to devour every inch of you tonight."</p>
<p> Navarre let out a quiet little moan. "No. No problem. You run with that plan. I like it." His voice was strained.</p>
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<i>Note: Don't worry, this is an equal opportunity fic. A couple of ladies get a go at things in the next chapter and so does a straight couple. It's going to be a long night. 
<br/>CarlaJane</i>

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La Princesa Guerrera Chapter VII<br/> By Carla Jane and Jim 
<br/> November 1999<br/> THE FULL DISCLAIMER LIST IS AT THE BEGINNING OF CHAPTER I.<br/> Please go and check out all the warnings if you're a sensitive reader Ownership: The characters from Xena: Warrior Princess, the X-files and Sharpe are not ours. We're making no profit. Violence, language and sexual content: It's still an R rating, for poking through the icky aftermath of a battle, potty mouth and foreplay. This story contains f/f, f/m, and m/m sexual relationships. If any of this offends you, or if you are underage, or it's illegal where you live...  please, stop reading now.<br/> Bits and pieces: <br/> No, our Beta reader hasn't given up on us yet we must be doing something right. Thank you for your support, mouse.<br/> Net-Authors work for feedback. Let us know what you think of our story, please. I'm really struggling with the upcoming 'everybody ends up in one place' parts where I have to juggle all the characters within a single passage and knowing what the readers like might help me/us focus. Some of these scene-stealers are overwhelming the other, less intense, players. Thanx, Carla<br/> Contact us at [email removed]<br/> 
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Our story is set during the Napoleonic wars as illustrated by Bernard Cornwell in his series of 'Sharpe' books and the subsequent TV movies. As our tale begins the British forces are pushing the French out of Spain. Richard Sharpe is now a Major and has been recently widowed. Xena, because of the ambrosia she consumed (Episode: The Quest), is immortal and has been travelling the world for two thousand years since the death of her soulmate, Gabrielle.</p>
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    <p><br/><b>La Princesa Guerrera VIII<br/>by Carla Jane and Jim</b>
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<p><br/><br/>   
<i>SCULLY: "Thinking about what?" <br/> MULDER: "The usual. Destiny. Fate. How to throw a curve ball. The inextricable relationships in our lives that are neither accidental nor somehow in our control either."</i> </p>
<p> "That's it. I've had it." Mulder halted in place, rubbing the palms of his hands into his strained eyes. "We're going to have to stop for the rest of the night." </p>
<p> "Why?" Gabrielle demanded harshly. Bad enough their progress had been slow, stopping was too much. "When YOU felt like it we managed to walk through the entire night and day." The blonde reminded him in a sharp tone. "We're so close. We can't stop now Fox." </p>
<p> "I've done as much as I can. I can barely see anything." The Canadian had to orient on her voice. In the gloom and at a distance Dana and Gabrielle were hard to tell apart. "Your Princesa's tracks are too subtle." He began, sounding tired and annoyed. "I can't risk a torch because that would draw the French sentries from a mile away. I'm sure they stopped some time ago and I've no desire to stumble over them by accident. We can't afford mistakes with twenty-odd nervous, enemy soldiers sharing the area." </p>
<p> Gabrielle tried to bite down on the tirade that threatened to escape. Fox did have a valid point but her frustration was boiling over. "You said you were good at this. You should have found her by now." All of her anxiety was simply too much to contain. She lashed out at the only target available. "Was that just hollow boasting?" </p>
<p> "I am good. I'm just not a miracle worker." He growled back the declaration. "If you can wave your hands and make the sun rise then I'll keep at the trail." Mulder snarked. "If not... you're on first watch for as long as this bitchy mood of your's keeps you awake." </p>
<p> "Fox!" Dana interrupted in shock. </p>
<p> {Don't be more of an ass than you need to be, Colonel.} Gabrielle flipped to French. </p>
<p> {If you weren't a woman, I'd... } </p>
<p> {And since when has that ever stopped you?} The words were out before the bard had time to edit them. She saw his flinch only in silhouette, unable to make out his features. [Too far.] Her own wince was mostly mental. </p>
<p> "There's a clearing." Fox announced softly. He turned and slipped through the thick undergrowth without inviting either of his companions to join him. </p>
<p> "Gabrielle." The Irish woman caught at her friend's arm. "One night isn't going to make that much of a difference." She assured. "We'll find her tomorrow. I just know it." The grip slid into a hug. "Would you like me to sit with you?" </p>
<p> "I'm not very good company right now." The storyteller shook her head. "The idea that she could be only half a mile away yet... I'd rather be alone right now. Go lay down with Fox. I'm just going to walk a circle then pick out a post." </p>
<p> Dana squeezed slightly then released the blonde and wiggled through the hedging. Fox had been generous to call it a clearing, but it did have room enough for them to lay down amid the tree trunks. </p>
<p> The Canadian was already digging a thin blanket out of his pack. He practically threw himself down into a hollow and turned his back on Dana without speaking. </p>
<p> She shrugged out of the straps of her own backpack and settled down near his shoulder. "I think I owe you an apology, Fox." Dana listened. His breath was coming too fast for sleep but he didn't respond. "I didn't make my point properly earlier. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I was just trying to stop you from wounding Gabrielle any more than... " She sighed. "I admit that I don't know much about war and the specifics of how to wage one. What you said earlier makes sense." Her gaze drifted slowly across his prone form. "You're probably right about how the people on the leading edge of the conflict care more for results than appearances... that winning is all that matters sometimes. I suppose you're right about Gabrielle being a warrior too. She certainly comes across that way at times." </p>
<p> He shifted slightly, turning more towards the sky. "I thought she understood. I didn't mean to disgust her." Mulder said in a quiet voice. </p>
<p> "I'm sure... intellectually... that Gabrielle is well aware of Xena's capabilities." Dana stated. "But I've gotten the impression that they have been apart for a fair while. Being presented with the most grisly aspects of Xena's campaign is hard on Gabrielle. I know if you had done those things I would... " </p>
<p> A grunt of annoyance cut off her words. "You knew what I was when you got into this." </p>
<p> "Of course I knew." The Irish woman responded intensely. "Samantha knows what you do as well." She shifted her attack. "But I somehow doubt that you've hauled her out and shown her the end result of your work. I doubt that she's seen a single one of the many corpses you've created." </p>
<p> He visibly flinched. "Leave Sam out of this!" Mulder's voice was almost a snarl. "Don't you even say her name." </p>
<p> Dana noted his body's violent reaction but she didn't dare let up until her point was made. "It's one thing to be aware that someone you love deals death for a living. It's quite another to have your nose rubbed in the destroyed bodies that result." She edged a bit closer so her hip grazed him. "This is not a clear-cut situation, Fox. Gabrielle is a warrior but she considers motivations more important than the actual side someone takes in a battle. On top of that... she would rather walk away than fight when given a choice." </p>
<p> His voice was gritty with hostility. "Considering what just happened I'm finding that a little difficult to accept." </p>
<p> "It's not you she's angry at, Fox." Dana explained. "She's frustrated and you're just a convenient target... one she thinks can handle her aggression. She doesn't mean to hurt you." Dana leaned, giving in to a desire that had been tugging at her since they had met. She smoothed her hand across the line of the blanket attempting to feel the stiff leather and hard muscle underneath. Surprisingly, he recoiled from the physical contact. </p>
<p> "Don't touch me." </p>
<p> His protest sounded like an ingrained reflex. Dana stared in surprise. "What's wrong?" She asked cautiously. </p>
<p> "You hurt me. You're sorry. It'll never happen again... yeah, right. Like giving me a treat afterwards is going to make it all go away." His voice was tight with strain. At least she wasn't still calling him William like his mother did. That would make the parallel too much to bear. </p>
<p> "You misunderstand." She denied the implication immediately. "Fox, I've figured out that you've suffered a lot of damage over the years and I suppose you've earned the right to be defensive but I honestly don't mean you any harm." Mulder actually looked her way, a good sign. She could see the glitter of his eyes. "Will you trust me?" </p>
<p> Fox pulled the blanket he was wrapped in even tighter. "I'm really tired. Can we talk about this in the morning?" </p>
<p> "Do you trust anyone, Fox?" </p>
<p> He shifted uncomfortably. "Can we please dissect my personality flaws some other time? Gabrielle is going to want me to relieve her in a few hours and I need some sleep." </p>
<p> "One name." Dana bargained. "Give me one name... someone you trust implicitly to never hurt you... even by accident." </p>
<p> "The people we believe in have the greatest potential to do us damage... simply because of our faith in them." Mulder recited. "It's safer to expect nothing." His breath hissed out. </p>
<p> "Give me a name." Dana persisted. The Lord knew that she would have been able to list her entire family and a few friends besides. It spoke badly that he hadn't said his mother or father. </p>
<p> "Sam... but she's just a kid." Fox dismissed his sister's importance. "I suppose... Skinner." Fox finally provided. "He's disappointed me a few times, but he's never hurt me." </p>
<p> "How did he disappoint you?" The redhead pressed. </p>
<p> "You said one name. I gave you two." He reminded her. "I'm going to sleep now." Closing his eyes, Mulder turned away from his fiancee. </p>
<p> "Can I kiss you goodnight?" </p>
<p> He actually started laughing, a low, subdued noise. "You don't want me to get any rest tonight, do you?" </p>
<p> Dana shrugged. "I'm wandering around Spain... unchaperoned... with a handsome man. My reputation, for what it was worth, is absolutely ruined. It seems a shame we've gotten no pleasure to offset the scandal this is going to cause." </p>
<p> "Are you suggesting something, Miss Scully?" His voice was suddenly rich with a refined accent and amusement sparkled through the question. </p>
<p> Dana liked the difference. "I'm just attempting to improve your mood... and it seems I've succeeded." She rose. "Pleasant dreams Colonel Mulder. I'm going to check on Gabrielle before I settle." </p>
<p> "Goodnight Dana." He whispered quietly as she stood and padded away. </p>
<p> The Irish woman smiled at the ease with which she had lightened the mood between them. Perhaps Fox wasn't going to be as difficult to deal with as she had feared yesterday. Dana looked about, not seeing where Gabrielle had stationed herself. For just a moment she feared that her friend had continued on without them. "Gabrielle?" The redhead called out in a hushed voice. "Where are you?" </p>
<p> "Here." A vague shadow that Dana had mistaken for a bush answered off to her left, lifting one arm to further identify herself. </p>
<p> "How are you feeling?" Dana sank down to the ground beside her companion. </p>
<p> "Frustrated. Embarrassed." Gabrielle responded. "I keep thinking that if I shouted her name out loudly enough... she might hear me and answer." </p>
<p> "But so would a pack a very angry French soldiers." Dana chided. Her arm moved to wrap around the other. "Would it help to talk about it?" </p>
<p> Gabrielle laid her staff down into the bed of old leaves and discarded needles they sat on. "In all the years we were together... " The bard mused aloud. "In all the time I've watched over her... I've never seen her doing anything quite so... " She leaned. "Before we met Xena was one of the most vicious warlords to walk the earth, a force to strike fear into the hearts of the helpless and fierce alike. The shame that she felt for that time, for her behaviour was so... at times the regret was almost crippling." </p>
<p> Dana petted pale hair. It was almost white in the minimal light. "At least she's taking her anger out on soldiers." </p>
<p> "But that's not going to matter. When the time comes and Xena calms down enough to reflect on her actions she's going to feel such self-loathing." Gabrielle predicted. "I can get past almost everything but that. The hurt she's inflicting on herself, that's what pains me the most." </p>
<p> Dana turned her face, setting a kiss on top of that dusty gold hair. "You say she's survived the guilt once before. I'm sure you can help her find the strength to do it again." </p>
<p> "Assuming she wants to." Gabrielle murmured. "I've a fear... " She began in a tiny whisper. "It seems ridiculous in the light of cool reason but... a spark of... " Her head shook gently, not wanting to dislodge Dana's comforting touch. "What if this time Xena decides not to return to the path she's been walking? What if she's gotten so angry with me during our separation... that I didn't come to her sooner." The pain of that thought was a physical agony. "If I'd realised it was possible I would have, but... " There was no way to discuss this properly with Dana. The younger woman wasn't prepared to deal with the reality of where Gabrielle had been. There was no way that the redhead would believe. </p>
<p> "Last night you were so sure." Dana reminded. </p>
<p> "You saw that... spectacle." The bard shivered. "She's so far gone." </p>
<p> "As disgusting as it was, Fox said it all made logical sense. It's not like she was doing it for fun." Dana turned sideways so she could wrap both her arms around the other woman. "Doubting yourself now isn't going to help." </p>
<p> Gabrielle leaned gratefully into the hug. The contact was a soothing balm, settling her. Dana's palm, running a slow caress up and down her spine felt wonderful. </p>
<p> The night was peaceful with only the faintest sounds of animal life stirring about them. </p>
<p> "Meeting you was one of the best things that's happened on this trip." Dana whispered into Gabrielle's soft hair. "I never thought to find so dear a friend so quickly... or in such a different sort of person than myself." She smiled. "Being with you feels so... comfortable. You have a radiant spirit, Gabrielle." The absent stroking lengthened to include the bard's shoulder. "You've got what my sister, Melissa, would call an old soul. I can feel a sense of time wash over me when I look into your eyes." Dana's conversation wandered. </p>
<p> Gabrielle stirred so she actually met the other woman's gaze. The clear blue was hard to make out in the low light but the bard's memory filled it in. </p>
<p> "Listen to me." Dana laughed faintly, her head tipping forward so their brows touched. "I sound like a child playing with poetry that I'm incapable of understanding." She sighed. "I want so much to appreciate the concepts of spiritualism and romance but they're always just beyond my reach." </p>
<p> "You underestimate yourself." </p>
<p> The storyteller's voice melted into Dana's ear, urging her to look up fractionally. A reckless urge made the redhead press forward to touch those sweet lips with her own. The resulting sensation was devastating, pure and addicting. Dana finally pulled back, gasping for air and shocked that she hadn't been thrust away sooner. "I'm so sorry." </p>
<p> Gabrielle's hand shot out to curve around the back of Dana's neck, holding her in place. "It's all right. I was enjoying that." </p>
<p> "But you and Xena?" </p>
<p> "Xena and I have time and love enough between us not to sweat over issues of ownership. I suppose we're products of a different age." She confided honestly. "I'm flattered." Gabrielle kissed a reddened cheek then dragged her mouth acoss the warm skin to meld mouths once more. This kiss held, deepening every second until they had to break apart slightly to gasp for air. "I'm interested." The storyteller stole another searching kiss. "It's been so long since I've felt the desires you're stirring up." </p>
<p> Dana whimpered slightly, pushing forward. "Don't stop." Her own hunger was raging, inflamed by a night and day's worth of wishful speculation on what touching Gabrielle would feel like. She instigated the next kiss, using her own tongue to prove she was no novice. The Irish woman hadn't ever tasted anything so delicious as the blonde's rising passion. Her hands lifted cautiously, smoothing down the other woman's arms. Their bodies unconsciously slid closer together, rubbing slightly. Dana's mouth eventually moved, smearing across soft cheeks. "So good." Her hips rocked against her friend, needing more contact. </p>
<p> Gabrielle's fingers loosened their hold on red hair and drifted to trace the line of Dana's throat. "The uniform is nice but it doesn't completely suit you." The bard plucked the buttons of the dark green jacket open one at a time. She paused to admire the way the other woman's chest heaved in reaction to each flicking release. "Are you comfortable with this?" Gabrielle questioned. "Is this what you want?" Her hand melded into the curve of one soft breast. </p>
<p> "I want everything." Dana proclaimed breathlessly. "I've been craving this since last night." Her body arched into the contact. Finally, the promise of relief, after days of feeling that her skin was too tight to contain all the sensations assailing her. Dana rose up onto her knees so she could gather the beautiful blonde closer to her chest. Running her hands over the shoulders and down the back of her companion was enough to make her fingertips scald even though Gabrielle was completely dressed. The feel of the storyteller's warm breath against her provoked a choked off moan of pleasure. </p>
<p> "Easy." Gabrielle soothed. "Take it easy. You're shaking hard enough to fly apart." She reached around and began to carefully massage the backs of Dana's trembling legs. When the shivers became less dramatic Gabrielle moved the fondling higher, stroking across the redhead's trim behind. </p>
<p> Dana's hips undulated. "Skin." She fumbled at her own clothing. "Hurry." </p>
<p> "Speed... " Gabrielle gently levered away the other's hands. "Is not a valuable component of romance. Relax and just feel." She suggested, pulling away long enough to open the top layer of her own clothing. Gabrielle levered up to her own knees so they were level once more. With an undulating movement their bodies slid up and across one another. </p>
<p> Dana's nipples chafed against the drag of fabric with an almost painful rush of sensation. She tossed her head back, emitting a stifled moan of arousal. The jacket she had on practically slid off her thrown back shoulders. </p>
<p> "Fashions... were so much simpler... " Gabrielle lifted the loose shirt Dana wore, discovering a thin chemise underneath. Still, the silky undershirt felt delightful against her hot cheek. "... in my youth." </p>
<p> Dana let out a hissing breath. Tossing her shirt to one side, she pushed, toppling them both. Now the Irish woman, on hands and knees, was over the other woman. </p>
<p> Dusty red hair tickled Gabrielle's nose and chin as Dana lowered her mouth to explore the curve of the bard's throat. A warm tongue tickled the salty skin, descending gradually into cleavage. </p>
<p> "Ooo, nice." The bard threaded her fingers into the other's hair and pulled tight until the scrape of teeth grazed her breast. Moisture gradually seeped through the material as Dana suckled. When the mouth lifted away the rush of cool damp air made the blonde quake. </p>
<p> Resting her weight on her elbows Dana loosened the lacings on Gabrielle's high trousers and peeled them back. She impatiently bunched the shirt in front of her higher. The redhead paused a moment to gaze down before diving down to rim Gabrielle's belly button. The blonde moaned deep in her chest and her hips lifted inviting Dana to pull the pants further down. </p>
<p> What neither of them expected was the faint answering noise that Fox made from the other end of the small clearing. </p>
<p> Dana froze in place, breathing hotly against Gabrielle's flat stomach. "This is such a mistake." Her lips brushed sweaty skin as she spoke, provoking more tremors. </p>
<p> "You're right... " Gabrielle's voice wasn't completely steady. </p>
<p> Dana wasn't stopping. Despite her words she continued to place damp kisses across the taunt stomach under her. </p>
<p> Fox thrashed a little against his blanket, whimpering. Gabrielle thought she heard a name, Alex, but that couldn't be right. </p>
<p> "Merciful Brighid." The air seemed to go out of Dana. She all but collapsed, pressing her face into her friend's warm skin. "We can't, can we?" </p>
<p> "If things were different." Gabrielle sighed as their bodies pulled apart. </p>
<p> They straightened out their clothing in silence, not looking at each other. </p>
<p> "How can someone who's business is stealth be such a noisy sleeper?" Gabrielle mused aloud. The frustration was there but so was a certain amount of jesting. If nothing else the brief near-encounter had taken her mind off the morose thoughts plaguing her. Her hands reached up to shake old pine needles from her long hair. </p>
<p> "I suppose I should... " Dana hitched a thumb over towards where she'd left her pack. </p>
<p> "Stay." The bard requested. "Keep me company." Gabrielle settled into a comfortable position, her back to a tree. "I like it when you're close to me." </p>
<p> Dana's smile was a brief flash of white. "I like it too." With a rustle of movement she squirmed over to rest against the other woman. Gentle pressure urged Dana to lay her head in the storyteller's lap. </p>
<p> "Close your eyes." Gabrielle suggested. "Relax." </p>
<p> "It's difficult." The redhead admitted. "I'm all tensed up." </p>
<p> "Okay." A chuckle tickled the back of the bard's throat. "Once upon a time... " </p>
<p> "A bedtime story?" Dana's answering giggle was breathy. "How wonderful." </p>
<p> "Please, I'm trying to bore you to sleep here... now hush, or I'll stop." Came the mock warning. "Once upon a time in a kingdom far, far away a farmer's daughter leaned against a half-built wall dreaming of adventure." </p>
<p> "Does a handsome prince come to save her?" </p>
<p> "No, a princess comes... but the farmer's daughter is going to save the princess. Now lay quietly little girl and let me do my job." Gabrielle warned in a less than stern tone. "One day bandits decended on the village where the farmer's daughter lived... " She began again, her hand absently petting the tangle of red hair under her fingers. </p>
<hr/>
<p>
<i>XENA: "I need a volunteer ... I pick you." </i></p>
<p> The overcast sky made for a very dark night. First watch was over and Harper wasn't on duty until third watch. He had slept while Hagmen and Harris were on picket but awoke when they called Perkins and Major Sharpe for their turn. </p>
<p> [Probably the Major is still upset about my teasing him and that's why I'm on duty with Cooper instead of him.] Patrick thought, as he resigned himself to losing sleep for the rest of the night. </p>
<p> Patrick got up and set to making some tea as he continued to think about what had happened over the last few days. The chosen men were the best soldiers in 'old nosey's' forces. [How could we lose a Colonel even one as useless as Mulder?] Patrick knew that Mulder's loss was a big problem, especially for the Major. Hogan may have joked about getting rid of useless officers but losing Mulder could be the end of Sharpe's career. [Or possibly his life.] </p>
<p> The Sergeant poured some tea into two mugs and made his way to where Sharpe was standing his watch. </p>
<hr/>
<p> Xena observed silently as the big man walked away from the fire. She was crouched behind a tree, waiting for the soldiers to become more relaxed in their vigilance so she could approach the officer a few yards in front of her without disturbing the others. The warrior had overheard one of the soldiers call this man 'Major Sharpe' and believed that he would be the best way to getting the help she needed. Teresa had told her friend a lot about her husband and Xena was sure that the Richard must have heard as much about Teresa's sister-in-arms from his wife. She wanted to approach him alone so as not to alert the rest of the men, but now the Sergeant was walking towards her target. [I'll have to wait a bit longer. They're all a little jumpy and libel to shoot first and ask questions later. A commotion would notify the Frogs of someone else encroaching on their position.] Xena thought as she settled down against the tree. </p>
<hr/>
<p> "You're supposed to be asleep, Sergeant." Richard observed in a quiet voice. </p>
<p> "Aye Sir, but I need to settle my mind first and I thought a wee bit of tea would help." Harper replied and sat next to Sharpe. "I brought some for you, Sir, might chase away the night's chill from you." </p>
<p> "A peace offering, Pat?" </p>
<p> "No Sir. Nothing of the kind. Just being a good Sergeant and looking out for my commanding officer." </p>
<p> "Mulder seemed to need a little more looking after than he got." Sharpe sipped some of the hot brew. "I suppose I shouldn't have avoided him as much as I did. Maybe he wouldn't have been taken." </p>
<p> "Are you sure he was taken, Sir? I mean, Dan is the best tracker we have and he couldn't find a sign of anyone else anywhere near Mulder's prints. It looks like he just took off." </p>
<p> "I know it does, I've chased it around inside my head all day... but he had to have been abducted." Richard protested. "Nothing else makes sense. If he were intending to leave he would have grabbed his gear and weapons. He left his rifle behind, for God's sake. I don't think you scared him quite that much, Pat. Somehow he had to have been coerced." </p>
<p> "Aye, and he would have taken his horse. He seemed to like sitting up there, all high and mighty, looking down at everyone." Patrick sneered. </p>
<p> "Don't start, Pat. I know you didn't like him, hell, I wasn't too fond of him either... but we have to find him or at least figure out what happened to him... else I'm in for it with Wellington." Sharpe shivered. "They might actually get it right and really hang me this time." </p>
<p> They sat in companionable silence for a few moments before Harper spoke again. "What's the plan, Sir? I mean... do we keep after the Warrior Princess again tomorrow or start looking for the Colonel on our own again?" </p>
<p> "I think we should stick to searching for Xena and hope to run across a sign of what happened to Mulder along the way." Sharpe replied. </p>
<p> "Is that wise, Sir? We can always tell their Lordships that we couldn't find Xena and spend the rest of our time tracking Mulder. Myself, I don't relish having to tell Miss Dana we misplaced the bugger... no matter that she'd be better off without him." </p>
<p> Sharpe didn't reply right away. He sipped his tea and looked around. Finally he said "Teresa told me that Xena was very good at what she does. I still think if we want to find Mulder... our best bet would be to enlist her aid." </p>
<p> "But if all these Frogs are out for her hide... wouldn't she be avoiding that big a column of them... keeping to another part of the area?" Harper asked. </p>
<p> "That's not her style. She's more likely to stand in their midst and cut them apart." </p>
<p> "She's that good?" </p>
<p> "She's deadly." Sharpe nodded. "Teresa said Xena is the most honourable warrior she'd ever met... and the most lethal. She can sneak into a guarded camp, cut the throats of all the officers, steal their supplies and leave without alerting the guards at all." </p>
<p> "If she's as clever as all that... what chance do we stand of finding her?" </p>
<p> "If she doesn't want to be found, nobody will find her." The Major shrugged. "We'll continue looking but I've been letting my contacts know that Richard Sharpe needs to speak to La Princesa Guerrera." </p>
<p> "Then you're hoping she'll find us." </p>
<p> "Yeah, and then maybe we can ask her help to find Mulder." Sharpe said. "I'm fair sure Teresa mentioned me to Xena and I'm trustin' she'll contact us." </p>
<p> Xena had moved closer to the two men as they talked. [Teresa seems to have spread my reputation almost as much as Gabrielle did.] She slithered up to settle quietly right behind the soldiers, reaching to the Sergeant's side and stealing his forgotten mug of tea. Xena sipped the lukewarm liquid and grimaced while listening to them talk, she wondered if this 'Mulder' that they were looking for was the same English officer that she had seen with the French column. [And I'd really like a hot cup of tea.] </p>
<p> Harper looked thoughtful down at his hands then asked. "If Miss Teresa only mentioned you... are you sure that Xena will contact you? Why not just attack us for mucking about here?" </p>
<p> "She's only killing the French, Pat." Sharpe replied. "I don't think we need to worry about being attacked by her. Teresa said she could be absolutely ruthless towards her enemies but fiercely loyal to her friends." </p>
<p> "A lot like us and the lads, right Sir?" </p>
<p> Sharpe chuckled. "Yeah Pat, that's true enough... but I'm guessing that she would beat the shit out of anyone who teased her the way you've been tearing at me." </p>
<p> "Only meant as a jest, Sir. Besides... " Pat smiled. "That button on your coat is still loose." </p>
<p> Sharpe tossed Harper a severe look and then sighed. "Enough already, Sergeant. Leave it be." </p>
<p> "Aye Sir." Harper acknowledged as he reached for his mug then looked at Sharpe with a puzzled expression. "Where's my tea?" </p>
<p> A long arm snaked between the men, a hand returning the empty mug. "Sorry boys." Xena purred. "Listening to you made me rather thirsty." </p>
<p> Both men stared at the vision before them. Xena was relaxed and calm but she held them in a gaze that was unnerving. Harper reacted first by raising his volley gun toward the tall figure. Before it was half-raised Xena had stood up and moved behind Sharpe. A long broadsword was quickly removed from the sheath on her back. In a swift, seamless motion the blade extended menacingly, over the Major's shoulder, and pointed at the Sergeant's throat. </p>
<p> "Easy Pat." Shape said in a small voice. "This could get ugly." </p>
<p> "But Sir... " Patrick protested. </p>
<p> "It would be best to listen to your Major." Xena hissed. "You'll both be dead before you raise that cannon any higher." </p>
<p> Harper lowered his gun and took a step back. "No offence, M'lady. You just startled me a wee bit." </p>
<p> In a soundless move, so smooth as to have been a skill acquired over a long time, the warrior sheathed her sword and replied with a growl. "I'm no Lady." Turning toward Sharpe she continued. "You wanted to talk to me." </p>
<p> Richard studied the 'Lady' before him. She was as tall as Harper, with long black hair, high cheekbones, and piercing blue eyes. [Teresa said she was a beautiful woman, but that's a hell of an understatement.] She raised her eyebrow at his appraisal and he realised he had been staring. "Well... um... " Sharpe stammered. "Maybe I should make the introductions. I'm Major Richard Sharpe of the South Essex in the army of Lord Wellington. This is my Sergeant, Patrick Harper. My late wife, Teresa, told me of her friendship with you but her description of your beauty falls short of the reality." </p>
<p> Xena chuckled and relaxed by settling against a tree. She offered a carefully crafted smile. "Teresa was a romantic at heart, Richard. She also told me about her charming husband and his best friend." She looked at Harper. "How are Ramona and your son, Patrick?" </p>
<p> Xena's tone and attitude seemed to ease the tension in both men. Sharpe was warmed by the smile and its possible implications. They sat down and appeared to relax before Harper replied. "Ramona and the wee one are well, Miss Xena. Thank you for asking." </p>
<p> Xena didn't inquire after Sharpe's daughter as she knew he had left the child in the care of Teresa's family. She looked at the man who had been husband to a close friend and asked. "Did Wellington send you to find me or is this just a social call?" </p>
<p> "Our mission was to contact you and try to find out what your intentions are. We're to invite you back to speak with his Lordship." Richard answered. "There was concern that your activities as of late may hinder our own." </p>
<p> "Hogan thought I might turn against the English or your allies." Xena deduced. "He wants some control over the direction that I will take." </p>
<p> Sharpe nodded. "The rumours have been that you are only after the French and that they are spending a lot of time and manpower trying to hunt you down. Hogan would like to see this continue but even he realises that eventually the Frogs may succeed. You have information on troop strengths and activities that Wellington will need for his future plans. Hogan doesn't want the knowledge lost." </p>
<p> Xena sneered at Sharpe and said. "He wants the information, yes... but he also doesn't want the French to get me... as I may know enough about Wellington's forces to give the Frogs an advantage." Xena considered for a moment, then continued. "He can't afford to let them get me so he sent my late friend's husband to bring me back for a debriefing... .. or possibly to eliminate me." She concluded. </p>
<p> Sharpe looked honestly shocked. "Hogan never said that... and I wouldn't force you into returning. Besides, he knows I wouldn't kill an ally...  or a friend." Still, that was just the kind of trick the spymaster was notorious for. </p>
<p> Harper seemed to think so too, considering his next words. "I'm ashamed that a fellow countryman can be as devious as that." The Irishman supplied. "But 'tis likely that he wouldn't have told us our true mission. Knowing that you were Miss Teresa's friend, he might use the Major to find you... but, if you refused to co-operate, someone else would have to kill you." </p>
<p> "DAMN!" Sharpe exclaimed. It was like a flash of lightening striking him. "That's why they gave the mission briefing to Mulder alone. I'll bet he's supposed to kill you if you won't come back with us." </p>
<p> "Who's Mulder?" Xena questioned. </p>
<p> "A bloody, useless bugger." The Sergeant growled. "Our commanding officer. The twit went missing last night while he was taking a leak." He looked sheepishly at Xena. "Begging your pardon, Miss Xena." </p>
<p> "Don't worry about it, Patrick." Xena replied. She had overheard the two men speaking about Mulder but didn't want to seem too knowledgeable about the subject. </p>
<p> "That's the other part of our problem." Richard glanced at Xena and explained. "He's our new Lieutenant Colonel. We were showing him the area as we attempted to contact you. Now that he's gone missing we have to try and find him. I was hoping you might help us, but in light of what we just figured out... I'll understand if you don't." </p>
<p> Xena smiled over at Sharpe and then turned to Harper. "And what's your opinion, Sergeant?" </p>
<p> "Tis no secret that I don't like the bugger and would rather leave him for the Frogs." Patrick responded. " If we don't at least try to get him back Major Sharpe will be in a lot of trouble. However, I can't see you helping us to rescue a man who may be under orders to kill you." </p>
<p> "I appreciate your concern on my behalf, boys, but I can take care of myself." Xena looked about then sighed. She returned her gaze to Sharpe before continuing. "Is your officer in his mid-twenties... dark haired, about six foot tall and dressed in a uniform like yours?" </p>
<p> "You've seen him." Sharpe stated. </p>
<p> "Yes." She responded. "He's being held by a small French patrol about a half day's journey east of here." Xena didn't bother to mention that the man was acting as though he wanted to be with the Frogs... especially their commanding officer. By telling Sharpe where to find his missing officer she now had the help needed to take on the enemy patrol. Hopefully Teresa hadn't exaggerated the skills that Sharpe and his 'Chosen Men' had in dealing with an enemy that out-numbered them three to one. Xena didn't want to let them know the odds as it might give them pause. She badly wanted the officer in command to suffer for allowing the atrocities that she had been coming across for the last while. "Would you like my help in retrieving your missing Colonel, Richard?" </p>
<p> "I would." The Major replied. "But not if it will cause conflict between my duty as an officer and my loyalty to a friend. Maybe you could just point us in the right direction and we'll take it from there. I don't want you to get hurt." </p>
<p> Xena cast a charming smile toward Sharpe. Even in the dark her blue eyes burned. "I don't run from trouble, Richard. When we rescue your Colonel Mulder I will decide how to proceed based on his actions and my conscience." She thought quietly for a moment then added. "I'll try not to put you or your men in a position that might force you to make a decision that will compromise your duty." </p>
<p> "And supposin' Colonel Mulder's orders are to kill you?" Harper asked. "What then?" </p>
<p> "I'm a Spanish partisan... not an English soldier. Wellington has no authority over me or the people of Spain. If your Colonel tries to kill me I will defend myself, but I don't think Wellington will openly try to stop me." </p>
<p> Sharpe cut in. "That would cost him the support of the people and may provoke other partisans into opposing him." </p>
<p> Harper excused himself and went back to the camp. He returned in a few minutes with fresh tea and passed it around. "If you don't mind my asking, Miss Xena, why are you doing this?" The Sergeant sipped his tea and continued. "I can understand you fighting the Frogs... but why alone? You could have avoided contacting us and just disappeared or continued on and led us a merry chase with little chance of catching you. So why look for allies now?" </p>
<p> Xena stared into the steam rising from the tea that Harper had brought her. [Should I tell the truth? Maybe a part of it.] She thought of where to begin and raised her head to answer. "I'm sure you heard how the partisans I worked with were slaughtered. I have continued the fight alone because I'm able to hide from the French better than if I'm with a group." The warrior shoved a hank of hair out of her eyes. Her voice dropped to a harsh whisper. "I'm tired of watching those I care about die. The Frogs are looking for the Warrior Princess, not a whole partisan group." </p>
<p> "So you're the only one at risk." Richard deduced, approving of her decision. "You've been avoiding contact with everyone so as not to give the Frogs a target or a trail to follow." Sharpe looked at Xena and added. "So why contact us? Why now?" </p>
<p> "You're soldiers. You're already targets." Xena glared at her cup, the anger she was feeling apparent in the set of her shoulders. "Over the last fortnight I've come across a trail of destruction to make anyone's stomach heave in disgust. This morning I saw one farm and it's occupants utterly destroyed. I found the old farmer and his wife butchered and their half grown boys gutted. All the livestock had been killed... at least what hadn't been taken." She paused and in dead voice continued inciting their anger. "At the next place a couple of Frogs were at the same trick only that time the family was younger... with a crowd of children screaming in terror." She considered, deciding not to go into details of the revenge she had taken on the perpetrators. Sharpe, being a proper soldier, wouldn't likely approve. "The trail... and the line of responsibility led back to a slightly larger French patrol and the Major commanding it." There was no sense scaring them off by admitting to the actual size of the column. Xena sneered down at the ground before turning and looking directly at Sharpe. "I want them dead. I would have killed them right then, but I felt it might cost their English prisoner his life." She lied. "So I came to find you and help you retrieve your Colonel." Her voice dripped malice and the honest truth escaped at last. "Then I will kill them all." </p>
<p> Sharpe set his cup down and returned Xena's stare. "You won't be doing it alone." He looked to Harper and saw his Sergeant's confirming nod. "We recover Mulder... but that patrol does not get away." </p>
<p> The smile that curved the immortal's lips this time was much more natural, if a bit predatory. So far Sharpe was falling into line quite nicely but it wouldn't hurt to bind the man a little tighter. She was going to need control over the patrol in order to accomplish her goals tomorrow. That meant she needed to master the Major. "While I'm thinking of it... " Xena glanced over one shoulder. "I've some documents I've taken off the French over the last month." She took one step closer to the shadows that surrounded them. "Would you come with me while I fetch my mount, Richard?" It would be easier to twist him about her finger if his Irish guardian weren't hovering at his shoulder. </p>
<p> "I'm on watch." Sharpe stated. "I need to stay close to our camp." A hint of a request threaded through his tone but not his words. </p>
<p> Patrick, with the ease of a long-time companion, picked up the cloaked request. "I'll take over the duty, Major." He offered immediately. "I'm not tired." That wasn't entirely true but he'd functioned on far less sleep before. </p>
<p> "This way." Xena crooked her finger and glided backwards, drawing the blonde officer along with the intensity of her gaze. "It's dark tonight." Cautiously she reached to take his hand. "Let me guide you." </p>
<p> It was strange, Richard thought, to feel the calluses of a soldier on a woman's hand. Even Teresa, the most martial woman he had ever laid with, hadn't been marked by the regular use of a sword. That realisation sent a twinge of guilt through him but the motion of Xena's thumb across his skin was quickly shredding any objections that his mind wished to raise. How could so small an action affect him so severely? </p>
<p> Xena halted in place, seeming to consider her direction. The pause gave her the excuse to close the distance between them. When she turned her head her lips were only an inch from his ear. "Are we in a hurry, Richard?" The immortal brushed her mouth over the sensitive outer edge of his ear. </p>
<p> "I don't think so." Sharpe took the opportunity to run his free hand up her arm. Prepared for a possible rejection, it came as a pleasant surprise when she leaned even further into his proximity. This powerful, beautiful woman responding to his attention washed away any doubts that Colonel Mulder's provoking flirtations had planted in Sharpe's ego. It was odd not having to bend to accept the kiss that Xena turned his face into and the body pressing ever closer to his was decidedly muscular. The comforting swell of breasts pushed into his chest and the hip just beginning to dig into him was deliciously curved. </p>
<p> "Your rifle... " Xena tapped the weapon, wanting him to set it aside before he dropped it. She allowed just a little space between them so she could shrug off her belt and sword. The female warrior stole another kiss when Sharpe seemed to be on the verge of hesitating. She didn't want the man thinking. She needed the officer pliable and from what she had heard about the Major this was a damned effective way to get a hook into his loyalty... and the quickest too. A twinge of guilt at using the husband of a friend nipped at her but Xena shoved it down. It's not like she was harming him. </p>
<p> Richard placed his weapon carefully aside and reached for Xena once more. His arm hooked around her waist and he drew the woman tight against him. When his free hand lifted to trace the line of her lips she licked him briefly, making him grin. Xena's teasing hip shifted, stroking the front of his trousers. "Will your Sergeant come to investigate if he hears you groaning, Richard?" Her voice tickled across his sideburn. She told herself again that Teresa would understand. The fiery partisan had always understood that the end result often justified using other people's emotions and besides, Sharpe could well use some pleasure in his life and so could she. Even through the layers of leather and linen his hand curving over her breast felt good. Xena hadn't indulged in a sexual encounter in over five years now. Her body was over-due for a little mindless satisfaction. Even if her motives were less than pure, the need that his touch was igniting was honest enough. </p>
<p> "Let him come. He'll know enough to leave again right quick." Richard almost hoped that Patrick would catch a glimpse. It would gag off some of the flack Pat was giving him over Mulder. </p>
<p> When Sharpe pressed for another kiss her mouth opened against his and one of her hands lifted to dig into his messy blonde hair, holding him tight. The tormenting contact between their groins turned into an inciting grind. </p>
<p> "Bloody hell." Richard whispered out the curse as he discovered exactly how tight the lacings were on Xena's vest. This was going to require more thought than he'd planned and two hands. </p>
<p> "And double damn." Xena answered back when her fingers encountered the multitude of buttons on his uniform jacket. "Still... unwrapping the present is half the fun." She purred out, provoking a head to toe shiver from the man pressed against her. Xena shook off his restraining embrace and pushed him backwards until his spine met a supporting tree trunk. A grab at her was stopped by simply catching at his wrists and shoving them down. "Just stand still." The partisan told him. A light swat pushed Sharpe's broad shoulders back. "I know what I'm doing, Richard." </p>
<p> His head thumped back against bark. It had been a long time since he'd been with such a controlling lover. It was arousing to stand passive for a change. </p>
<p> Xena's mouth pressed into the hollow of his throat, nuzzling, as strong fingers began pushing silver balls back through their buttonholes. "Pity." She whispered quietly against his neck. "We'll do a proper job of it next time... once we've gotten those Frogs out of the way. Next time we'll have lots of bare skin and blanket... and all the trimmings... " She shoved his jacket open and yanked the hem of his shirt out of his pants. "You've no idea what I'm capable of." Xena teased. "But for now this will have to do." Her body rocked against his once more and one hand skimmed up under his shirt kneading his flat stomach. "Very nice." </p>
<p> "Xena." Richard tried to catch hold of her but it only earned him another light thump backwards. Her body pressed tightly against the length of him. The partisan's mouth melded to his stifling any protest he might wish to make, not that he could think of any objections at this moment. </p>
<hr/>
<p>
<i>GABRIELLE: "You don't have to be strong all the time, Xena. Sometimes it's good for the soul to be soft." </i></p>
<p> Fox woke up feeling a jolt of disorientation. The dawning sun shining down on his face was a surprise. Gabrielle should have woken him hours ago to take his turn at watch. Mulder sat up, looking anxiously around the area to find his companions. If something had happened again last night and it hadn't awoken him he'd never forgive himself. His panic was just beginning to grow when he realised that Gabrielle wasn't far away. The blonde sat, unmoving, with her back to a young tree while Dana rested her head on the other woman's lap. The heavily slanted light made the scene seem like something near a painting. </p>
<p> Clear green eyes shifted to meet his gaze as Gabrielle noticed his startled behaviour. "I wasn't tired." The bard answered his unspoken complaint. "I had a lot of things on my mind that needed sorting out." </p>
<p> He nodded. Climbing to his feet, Mulder shook out his blanket and began rolling it up. An apology was pushing at the back of his throat but he wasn't ready to give voice to it quite yet. He couldn't help but object to speaking first. Dana had forced him to acknowledge that he had done damage to Gabrielle, but it had been blind carelessness. The things the blonde had said to him were clearly intended malice. His jaw stiffened with the need to hold his tongue. </p>
<p> "I'm sorry Fox." Gabrielle began. </p>
<p> His face was dragged in her direction by the surprising ease of the apology. </p>
<p> "I know you're trying. I shouldn't have torn into you like I did last night. It was thoughtless and cruel. I apologise." She paused, looking expectantly up at him. He had to be on the edge of saying something. His expression was certainly intense enough. </p>
<p> "I'm sorry too." Fox ground out. He looked down at the crushed needles that he had been laying on. "I honestly admire what La Princesa... Xena... did at that farm but I can see how it was a bit much for you. I shouldn't have... " He mentally sought for the correct words, not wanting to compound his error. "I shouldn't have shoved your face in it, not like I did. I was out of line. I forget sometimes that other people see things differently than I do." </p>
<p> "Thank you for trying." She said softly. "I think you've spent too much time building barricades, Fox. It must be hard for you to look at things from another person's perspective considering how much of your energy is invested in simply maintaining yourself." </p>
<p> "I sense an insult in there somewhere." His laugh was gravelly and forced. </p>
<p> "Not an intentional one." Her head shook side to side. "You're so damned defensive. You need to let someone inside your walls... someone to share with. No, not me." Gabrielle noticed his raised eyebrow. "Dana." </p>
<p> "I like my walls. They keep me safe." </p>
<p> "You don't know what's good for you." The Amazon sighed. </p>
<p> "So tell me something I don't know." His chuckle was only slightly more genuine this time. "I told you Gabrielle." He said. "Dana and I are going to make it work. Don't you worry about us." </p>
<p> The bard smoothed a hand through the tangled red hair on her lap and smiled. "I believe you're going to try." She turned her attention to waking Dana. </p>
<p> The Irish woman grumbled and stretched. Her eyes blinked open and focused slowly. "Good morning." Dana offered up a look of unrestrained affection. Her voice was as meltingly sweet as her expression. </p>
<p> Fox fixed a measuring stare on the two women. Curiosity warred with mild confusion and he frowned. Something was different this morning but he wasn't exactly sure what it was. The comfortable rapport between his two companions made him feel even more like an outsider. "Excuse me for a moment." Mulder faded into the brush behind him. </p>
<p> Dana sat up, dusting herself off. "I didn't mean to sleep on top of you all night. Sorry. Did you get any rest?" </p>
<p> "Actually... I did." Gabrielle assured her. "I feel much more settled than I did last night. I spent the time putting things into perspective. Whatever we find today, I think I can handle it." </p>
<p> "But you didn't get enough sleep." Dana scolded. </p>
<p> "I know my capabilities and my limits." Gabrielle countered. "I'm all right." She groped after her pack. "Lets get something in our stomachs so we can move out." </p>
<p> "When we find Xena... " Dana uncorked her waterskin. "And I think we will today, I suppose the two of you will be pretty wrapped up in each other." She took a swig. </p>
<p> "You've got Fox." The bard reminded her friend. </p>
<p> "Not quite yet." Dana laughed. "But I will." She glanced in the direction he had vanished. "He's going to need some polishing but I can see a future for us. Still, I can't help but envy the bond you and Xena have." </p>
<p> "He may surprise you yet." Gabrielle heard the snap of a twig, warning her of Fox's return. "Time will tell." </p>
<p> Dana sank down by her own backpack. "I've got cheese and apples." She offered. </p>
<p> "How about some slightly stale rolls." Gabrielle contributed with a wince. </p>
<p> "I've had worse." Mulder caught the apple that his fiancee tossed his way. Despite the hard time they had put in on the road she looked good this morning, he thought. The sun-tinted rose of her cheeks faded her freckles away. The strained creases around her eyes had disappeared overnight and a sweet smile was playing across her lips. She must have loosened her clothes to make sleeping more comfortable because Fox was catching sight of a fair bit of cleavage. The pale, unfamiliar flesh was enough to set his imagination into action. </p>
<p> So body to body they had a connection. Dana's remark last night about him being handsome suggested that he was physically acceptable to her. Mulder chewed on the apple absently. She was bright enough, he supposed. She'd thought to pick up that bandit's pistol. In conversation her quick grasp of some of his odder ideas was refreshing. He had no desire to spend the rest of life explaining abstract concepts and building up her vocabulary so he could talk to her on an adult level. </p>
<p> It's not like he had to live with her yet. Another year or three in Wellington's service was likely before he'd be forced to deal with the day to day running of an estate he'd never laid eyes on. That was bound to be as boring as hell so he'd need decent company to keep him sane. Sam would be there by the time he arrived, thankfully. The kid was maturing into a vaguely interesting teenager. Dana's parents and sister would be there too but what he had heard of them so far hadn't made much of an impression. After Father it would take a lot for Wallace Scully to seem much of a challenge. Fox made a mental note to ask Dana about her family, his future family-by-marriage. That thought earned a cold shiver. As if one family wasn't bad enough, now he was expected to join another and start one of his own. </p>
<p> Fox couldn't help but wonder what kind of a father he was going to be. He wanted to believe that he would be a good one, that he'd never hit a defenceless kid or spend all his time yelling about flaws in his offspring. Dana would help, he expected. Considering how the little redhead had stood up to him over Gabrielle's welfare she wasn't likely to be a doormat where her children were concerned. </p>
<p> "Fox!" </p>
<p> Dana's voice finally penetrated the haze he had fallen into. Mulder suspected that she had called his name several times. </p>
<p> "You look a thousand miles away." Dana observed, handing over some cheese and bread. </p>
<p> "I was thinking about our children." He admitted carelessly. Her responding blush was intriguing. It went all the way down her throat and into the shadows of her neckline. He traced the path with his eyes. </p>
<p> "You're running ahead of yourself." Dana laughed softly. "I would like to be married before I start swelling my belly with a child, Colonel Mulder... and we've a task to tend to before we can see about having the ceremony." She teased. </p>
<p> "Yes'm." Fox set to devouring the food. It was liable to be some time before they'd eat again. </p>
<p> "Fox." Gabrielle jumped in, not willing to let the rapport that almost clicked in slip away without further exploration. "Dana told me about that old Greek tale that you sent her. Where did you turn it up?" She asked. </p>
<p> "Oh, that two-headed people story." One rangy shoulder twitched. "My mother had this huge trunk of books in the attic. I think someone must have given them to her because she wasn't much of a reader." His eyes, darkening to a murky brownish tint, dropped down to study his boot tips. "I spent a lot of time up there when I was younger." Hiding... his mind filled in what his voice wouldn't. "I found that particular story when I was about ten in a book of ancient legends. The language was so archaic, it had eluded my understanding before that. It was completely outside the realm of all the other volumes. They were mostly flowery romances and heavy-handed children's stories. It struck me." The portion of the bun that he hadn't eaten yet was quickly being compressed into a hard rock. "Those kind of sentiments were alien to me." </p>
<p> His expression was so desolate that Dana wanted to jump up and gather him into her arms. "Why did you sent it to me, Fox?" She murmured. </p>
<p> His head shook slightly, illustrating his confusion. He wasn't sure how to respond. He had done it in a flight of impracticable fancy after first listening to Samantha crying the night away... only to face the breakfast table full of bright-eyed optimism over her brother's long distance romance. Father had wilted the girl's fairy tale daydreams with a harsh glower. Fox had written out the story as much to make his sister smile as to woo a woman that Sam swore was his foreign Princess. "I hoped... I thought maybe there might be something more to destiny besides other people's obligations." Fox threw away the mangled remains of his breakfast. "We should get moving." He wasn't ready to emotionally expose himself to his companions, not in that regard. </p>
<p> "I did enjoy it." Dana pulled her gear together. "I loved it in fact. I had it tucked in my diary but now it's gone. What with all that's happened, I shouldn't be surprised." She tried to catch his gaze but he was avoiding her. "Maybe you could re-write it, or even send for the book." </p>
<p> "Father burned most of the books when I was twelve." He announced flatly. </p>
<p> "Why?" The query emerged involuntarily. She could see it was mistake almost instantly. </p>
<p> "Because he could." Fox snapped before heading back to the roadway. </p>
<p> "Ouch." Gabrielle commented. "Were those blades or words?" </p>
<p> "Both." Dana confirmed the observation. She accepted the helping hand that Gabrielle offered and climbed to her feet. </p>
<p> "He hates his father." The Bard passed along her insight. "Possibly with just cause. Step carefully around that topic, Dana." </p>
<p> As grim as that revelation was it couldn't completely obliterate the flutter of pleasure that the casual physical contact caused Dana. She squeezed the blonde's hand. "For as long as it lasts... I'm glad you're with us, Gabrielle." </p>
<p> "Me too." </p>
<p> The women followed the path Fox had taken. </p>
<hr/>
<p>
<i>SHARPE: "We don't use muskets. We use rifles. My men are all crack shots. We call them the Chosen men. They never miss." </i></p>
<p> Their brief encounter last night had been great fun but what Sharpe now observed was a thing of heart-stopping beauty. Xena had stripped down to her thin chemise and pants while she ran through a drill by the light of false dawn. Every movement the gorgeous woman made from the placement of her feet to the arch of her sword arm was impressive. At one point she sprang up from a crouch to perform a complete flip and land in a battle ready position. Her bare blade danced through a set of slashes and stabs that skimmed the edges of several trees without cutting the bark. The control her actions suggested was almost frightening. </p>
<p> She probably noticed him long before she actually acknowledged his arrival. One moment Xena was whirling in place, her legs kicking out, the next she whipped into a headstand and jump that landed her right in front of the observing Major. A sheen of sweat slicked her skin. Xena's pale eyes were glittering with excitement. </p>
<p> "Would you like to duel, Richard?" </p>
<p> The timbre of her voice shot straight to his groin, grabbing and squeezing. Sharpe had to swallow twice before he could get his own voice to work properly. "How about a shooting match instead." He was certain he stood a better chance if rifles, rather than blades, were involved. "We could make a wager on the outcome." His confidence expanded even more as her dark head shook a negative. </p>
<p> Xena ran her free hand over his shoulder and down one uniformed arm. "I suspect the forfeit you would choose, Richard, and you've already won that prize as soon as time and the Frogs allow." </p>
<p> Sharpe leaned to take a kiss. He was well aware how close the action brought him to the edge of her naked blade but that was a factor in his pleasure. Pity they couldn't take the time to indulge but duty, as always, had to come first. Richard pulled back sooner than he wanted to. </p>
<p> "We should get going." Xena prompted. </p>
<p> "Aye. The lads are ready to go." He informed her. "We've all the gear stashed on the Colonel's horse so we can move quickly." He put some space between them to help his composure. </p>
<p> "All right, but how about you move your baggage to my pack animal so you can ride beside me, Richard." Xena stared into his eyes, promising much. </p>
<p> "Should have thought of that myself." The Major nodded. "So... " He swallowed. "Are we going overland or on roadways?" </p>
<p> "A bit of both." Xena sheathed her sword and set to donning her outer clothes as if they were her long retired armour. "I was thinking that getting ahead of them and setting up an ambush might be the way to go." She extracted her hair from under her collar with a purposefully seductive lift of her arms. "If you agree, Richard." </p>
<p> "Aye." Sharpe gave himself a mental slap, striving for focus. "You said they outnumbered us, by how much?" </p>
<p> "I'm confident it's no more than your men can handle. I've heard how good your lot are... and I'm worth my weight in a scrap too." Her tone was light and coaxing. </p>
<p> When she finished putting herself together and they had collected Xena's horses the Major took her over to where his patrol was waiting. Every one of them was staring her way as the couple entered the small clearing. Their faces were painted with varying shades of admiration. Xena wasn't sure if it was a credit to her appearance or her reputation. </p>
<p> "These are the lads." Richard introduced. "Hagman, Harris, Cooper and Perkins." He pointed each out in turn. </p>
<p> "Boys." Xena inclined her head. "I hope you're in the mood to shoot some Frogs." She smiled. "I've just the spot for a little target practice... assuming they keep on the path I expect." </p>
<p> "Tuck yer tongue away, Perkins. It's draggin' on the ground." Harper whispered to the youngest rifleman. </p>
<p> "I'm riding with Xena." Sharpe announced with a smug grin. "Move this gear over to her second horse, Patrick." </p>
<p> "Right away, Sir." Pat grinned. A hand-sign sent the men scrambling to the job. </p>
<p> "Nice animals you've got here, Miss Xena." Harris ran a hand down one golden flank. </p>
<p> "Fortunes of war." She commented. "They stole my horse so I took a couple of theirs." Xena looked over the animal Sharpe was going to ride. Their wayward Colonel had good taste in horseflesh. Xena waited until she was certain Sharpe was watching then she vaulted gracefully up into her saddle. As soon as it was available Sharpe was up on the other horse and beside her. Marking his territory in front of the men, Xena thought with dark amusement. The poor boy didn't have a clue what he was dealing with. </p>
<p> "What's our direction?" Richard asked. "I want to send a couple of the lads ahead to scout out the column and the terrain." </p>
<p> "I've been hearing a lot about you from the locals." Xena ignored his query. Her knees nudged her mare into movement forcing them to follow her lead. "You've been doing some fine work." </p>
<p> "Thank you... " </p>
<p> She couldn't allow him much time for questioning her about the French troop. "So tell me, when are your Generals going to move their flabby, white asses into France where the front belongs?" </p>
<p> Below and behind them Harper let out a bark of amusement. Sharpe's snicker was much more subdued. "You can ask them yourself when we finish up here. They're more likely to tell an ally what's going on than confide in me." He tried to catch her eyes. "You are coming back to base with us, aren't you Xena?" </p>
<p> "Probably." She forced herself to smile yet again. Her cheeks were starting to hurt from using out of practice muscles. "How could I miss an opportunity for more... time in your charming company." Xena suggested something else entirely with a quirk of one black eyebrow. Let him think what he wanted, she wasn't prepared to make any decisions until the French Major's head was rolling in the dirt and she had a chance to grill Sharpe's wandering Colonel about his odd behaviour and true mission. The fact that the strange Brit had guarded her target's back at the farm had to be answered for. "Everyone's company... " She added. "How could I miss a chance to see the finest riflemen in Wellington's army in action?" Xena twisted slightly in her saddle. "If I'm to believe everything I've heard you've a least one man who can shoot a flea off a hare's ear at 50 paces." </p>
<p> "That'd be Hagman, Miss Xena." Harper offered up. "He's got a hawk's eye, he does." </p>
<p> The man in question smiled self-conconciously, his shoulders shrugging, but he didn't verbally respond to the compliement. </p>
<p> "And if your considerable battle skills weren't enough... " Xena caught Patrick's eye, offering yet another smile... this time just for him. "It's been ages since I've seen so many strong, handsome men all in one place." She stroked their egos. "I haven't felt so secure since the war began." </p>
<hr/>
<p>
<i>DEEP THROAT: "A lie Mr Mulder, is most convincingly hidden, between two truths..." </i></p>
<p> It was a strange situation, Aleksandr decided, waking up next to the same person he'd gone to sleep with. Normally he would have hit the door as soon as his partner was finished with him, at least the men. Women sometimes let him stay the night. Of course he and Navarre were dressed so it hardly seemed as intimate a scene as it could have been. Bare skin simply wasn't practical with the Princesa and Sharpe's lot stalking them. </p>
<p> "We need to get moving I suppose." Etienne stated absently right at Alek's ear. "You need to get to Paris." But despite his words Navarre showed no sign of rising just yet. </p>
<p> [As if that weren't the primary thought in my head.] Aleksandr sighed, complaining internally. The Russian made himself lay without protest as a finger extended to trace the line of his face. It tickled. "I need some letters from you to your friends instructing them to help me... or a token of some kind." Alek prompted cautiously. </p>
<p> "You're too innocent looking to be an assassin. How can your victims take such a choirboy's face seriously?" Navarre touched the other's mouth. </p>
<p> Aleksandr had no wish to be complimented in such a fashion or coddled. The urge to slap the annoyance away was strong but instead he purposefully turned into the caress. If the affection was simply a reaction to bodies clashing it was an annoying waste of time but if it was sincere it gave him another tool. Alek reminded himself what really mattered. Navarre had money, connections in Paris and an out of the way estate. Those were all things that Aleksandr needed. </p>
<p> Etienne pulled his hand back. "We'll get you a little further into safe territory then you can go. I've got to stay out here." Navarre sat up. "What do you know about 'La Princesa Guerrera', Alek?" </p>
<p> "The Princesa's name is Xena. She's working alone on the fringe..." The spy outlined. "... not taking orders from anyone. The British are worried that she might turn on them if the mood strikes her so they've sent out a small rifle company to collect her for a little chat with Wellington. The Major I ditched seems to know her in a round about way. His dead wife was a partisan." Aleksandr supplied. </p>
<p> "Tell me about the company you ran from. Where are they? Do we need to be concerned with them?" </p>
<p> "It's just a Major, a Sergeant and four riflemen." Alek summarised. "Although I'm told they're all crack shots. I got a little turned around but I think they're somewhere to the south-west of here. The Major is stopping at every settlement to drop his name with the locals. That's Major Richard Sharpe. He's expecting this Xena woman to come find him. They thought I was a Colonel named Mulder. I slipped away without breaking cover. God knows what they think happened to me." </p>
<p> Navarre considered a passing fancy. "If we were to take this Major Sharpe captive would the Princesa attempt a rescue? Is he that good a friend?" </p>
<p> "I don't know." Alek shrugged. "But killing Sharpe would put you in Ducos' good book for a while, which can't hurt until I get myself into place at your manor. I'd be careful though. Sharpe's a tricky bastard." </p>
<p> Navarre rolled away and grabbed after his uniform jacket. "I've a map in one of the packs. I need to show you how to find my family's winery. My ink and paper are stored with it so I can fix you up some notes." He caught Alek's stolen officer's coat at the same time. "I'm not comfortable with the idea of you wearing this." What looked like a dozen knives tumbled from the folds of it as he lifted the green jacket. "Holy mother, Alek." Etienne stared across at the young man he was about to send to his home and family. </p>
<p> "I work alone... behind enemy lines." Aleksandr reminded him in a mild, harmless tone. "I have to be able to protect myself. These are for self-defence." He attempted to soothe the distrust he saw forming in Navarre's grey eyes. "If I was harmless then I wouldn't be much of a guard for your parents, would I?" Alek moved to tug Mulder's uniform away. "Please, I need this, Etienne... just for a little while longer." </p>
<p> "Impersonating an officer is a hanging offence." Navarre didn't release the fabric. "Don't make me regret this Alek." </p>
<p> Using the jacket as a rope, Aleksandr pulled Navarre to him and then leaned forward himself. "I know that my past doesn't exactly encourage you to trust me." His voice was a breathy whisper. "But I want what you're offering so you have me under control." Alek submissively offered his mouth up for a kiss. </p>
<p> Etienne couldn't help himself. He took it, devouring the younger man. He was also the one who chose when to end the kiss. "Behave." </p>
<p> "Whatever you say, I'll do." The Russian assured the blonde but he kept a tight grip on the jacket. Alek stayed in his passive crouch until the Major withdrew from the small tent. Once he was safely alone a faint snort of amusement escaped. What was the point of buying a guard-dog if it's teeth weren't strong enough to protect your property? Still it wouldn't be smart to annoy the Frenchman until he had what he needed to enact the escape of his brother and sister. </p>
<hr/>
<p> ...and all the paths begin to converge...</p>
<p>
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La Princesa Guerrera Chapter VIII By Carla Jane and Jim [email removed] <br/> December 1999 <br/> THE FULL DISCLAIMER LIST IS AT THE BEGINNING OF CHAPTER I.
<br/>Please go and check out all the warnings if you're a sensitive reader Ownership: The characters from Xena: Warrior Princess, the X-files and Sharpe are not ours. We're making no profit. They're just simply too much fun to resist the temptation to play with them.
<br/>Violence, language and sexual content: We'll give it an R rating for dirty words and sexual foreplay.
<br/>This story contains f/f, f/m, and m/m sexual relationships. If any of this offends you, or if you are underage, or it's illegal where you live... please, stop reading now. 
<br/>Bits and pieces: Our Beta reader continues her quest to push us onward and upward... helping to battle the dragons of distraction and tempation. Thank you, mousehounde. 
<br/>Net-Authors work for feedback. Let us know what you think of our story, please. Carla is garnering altogether too much attention for her slashy, fluff OaT/X stories and it's just plain dangerous for poor La Princesa Guerrera. <br/> Please encourage us at [email removed] <br/> 
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Our story is set during the Napoleonic wars as illustrated by Bernard Cornwell in his series of 'Sharpe' books and the subsequent TV movies. As our tale begins the British forces are pushing the French out of Spain. Richard Sharpe is now a Major and has been recently widowed. Xena, because of the ambrosia she consumed (Episode: The Quest), is immortal and has been travelling the world for two thousand years since the death of her soulmate, Gabrielle.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/><b>La Princesa Guerrera IX<br/>by Carla Jane and Jim</b>
</p>
<p><br/><br/><i>XENA: "Nothing like a good ambush to liven things up."</i>
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<p>The road that the French took the next morning wasn't much more than an overused trail. A steep ridge shadowed the road on one side providing a convenient lookout but useable paths down the incline were few and far between so it wasn't much of a danger to anyone down below. The wilderness on the other side of the track was actually more imminent a threat. Signs along the ridge suggested recent traffic but they were too old to be evidence of Xena travelling just ahead of them, Mulder concluded. Still, shadowing the warrior's intended target was a sound strategy so that's where he led the women. 
</p>
<p>He had worried about Gabrielle's impatience but true to her assertions earlier the blonde was much calmer this morning despite her lack of sleep. Mulder would have called it a female thing except for the fact he'd known too many women in his time that were twice as hot-tempered as himself. Gabrielle's serenity had to be coming form a source he couldn't see at the moment. Not that it mattered so long as she stayed quiet and out of his way. 
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<p>Fox caught sight of the French fairly early in the day. As he had guessed there were around twenty men, a few donkeys burdened with bulging packs and one riding horse. He and the women gradually gained ground on the men down below so by noon they were travelling parallel. A small portion of his brain registered that Dana and Gabrielle were a little disturbed by his narrowed vision but it was something he couldn't afford to bother about at this point. Any misunderstandings that disrupted their newly forming attachment could be sorted out later. He was almost certain he'd seen a patch of rifle green among all those blue French uniforms. He just needed to get one really good look to be sure it was his quarry. The spy's eternal silence was within his grasp. That was the only thing he could concentrate on right now. 
</p>
<p>"Fox, you're getting a little close to the edge." Dana observed in the muted whisper he had enforced on her several hours ago. 
</p>
<p>Mulder's response was a snake's hiss. "I know what I'm doing." He gripped an overhanging branch and peered further over the steep cliff. Below him the mounted officer eased to the back of the tight column. The men leading the donkeys automatically distanced themselves providing privacy as the officer bent in the saddle to speak to one of the marchers. There it was, British Rifle Company green. My uniform, Mulder's mind raged. He had to fight against completely blanking out into anger. There was no way Fox was ever going to mistake that sinuous stride or dark, shiny hair for another man. If he lived to be a hundred years old Mulder would never forget Alex Krycek. Not that any real English officer was liable to be travelling so comfortably amid a batch of Frenchmen. Mulder scrambled gingerly back from the precipice. He needed to get ahead of them and find himself a spot to shoot from. Odds were he would only get one clear shot before they boiled up like a poked beehive. 
</p>
<p>"What is it?" One of the women asked, almost too loudly. 
</p>
<p>Mulder was so distracted that he wasn't even sure which it had been. "Krycek." Fox snarled as he broke into a run. He realised that they were trying to chase him. He heard a few stumbles as Dana fought to keep up. It was nothing to worry about. He'd go back for them shortly if they lost their way. This was Mulder's element. Slipping through natural obstructions to find a sniper post he felt more alive than he had in days. He almost ran too far. Out of the corner of his eye a rocky protrusion stopped him short. Fox dropped silently to his hands and knees. He reached out before himself carefully, testing the strength of the rock ledge before daring to crawl out on the exposed bit of stone. Even a skittering pebble would be an unacceptable amount of warning. To the left the French were still slowly winding their way forward. To the right he could almost make out a cut in the ridge wall connecting the upper path to the lower. That's where they would doubtlessly climb if they bothered to hunt him down. It looked a bit steep for them to come swarming up. Perhaps if they chose to go on without responding to his assassination he would be able to use it to get down later. Fox hoped they'd leave the body and at least some of his stolen belongings, behind. 
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<p>"Fox?" The women caught up to him. 
</p>
<p>"Hush." Mulder hissed without sparing them even a glance. He was too busy checking to see his rifle was primed to fire. 
</p>
<p>"What are you going to do?" Gabrielle squirmed through the prickly undergrowth to his side. 
</p>
<p>Mulder glared at her for daring to add more weight to his precarious perch. "I'm going to shoot a rabbit for lunch." He sneered. "What the hell do you think I'm going to do? Christ." He gazed downward. "Now be quiet or you'll spook them." 
</p>
<p>"Fox, no. You can't just pick him off." Gabrielle persisted in that same soft whisper. "We'll just keep following them. You'll be able to snatch him later this evening... or sooner if Xena attacks. Surely your commander will want to question this man." She reasoned. 
</p>
<p>Mulder's heavy lips curled. That was the last thing he wanted to happen. Dead, Alex couldn't tell tales. Maybe his indiscretion was minor compared to the military secrets that Krycek had stolen but it meant everything to Fox. 
</p>
<p>"Fox." 
</p>
<p>"Snap it shut, Gabrielle. I've work to do." 
</p>
<p>The scouts came first, not ranging too far ahead of the main body strangely enough. Mulder had noticed their formation was rather clumpish. They had closed ranks against Xena he supposed. The rider was pushing up to the leading edge now. He'd been back and forth all day keeping the soldiers alert and together. The man had two wits about him, that was certain. A quick, clear shot from afar was definitely safer than attempting to tangle with this French officer. 
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<p>"This is an execution." The bard complained. She was certain that Fox would live to regret what he was about to do. 
</p>
<p>"He's a spy and a thief. It's justice." Mulder grumbled. His eyes never lifted from the soldiers below.  Echoed around inside his head but he didn't voice that accusation aloud. Gabrielle already knew more than she should. What Fox needed was to kill the bastard so he could safely pretend that the tryst had never occurred. Simply by being alive Alex shattered any self-constructed wall of denial for Mulder. Even if no one ever found out about the encounter, Alex would still know it had happened. 
</p><p>"There's more." She prodded. 
</p>
<p>"There always is, but now isn't the time." Fox concentrated on his rifle's sight. "Be quiet." The order was half for the blonde and half for his own turbulent thoughts. 
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<p>Gabrielle spared a second to glance over to where Dana knelt then turned her attention back to Fox. The look on his face was so cold it gave her the chills. Every bit of Xena's hatred for guns made perfect sense. They allowed a person to deal death from a distance. Like poison, they minimised the event, turning a warrior into an assassin. "Not like this Fox. You don't want to kill Alex like this." She chanced using the spy's first name as Fox occasionally did. "Maybe if you could look him in the eye and still do this... " 
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<p>Fox practically spat venom at her to halt the words. "Hss... t!" Mulder's eyes during the brief glare he shot at her showed all the fury that his otherwise unmoving expression denied. "You don't know anything about it." Fox ruthlessly dismissed her from his attention in favour of adjusting his aim. The spy was just coming into range. 
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<p>Gabrielle looked from her friend to his target and back again. She should have tried to get the full story out of him sooner. It would make deciding how deeply to interfere so much simpler. Gabrielle cautiously extended the tip of her staff and just as his finger tightened on the trigger she thumped his rifle, destroying his aim. 
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<p>Mulder let out a frustrated snarl as he watched his target disappear from view between the pack animals. The line of soldiers went into full alert. "You self-righteous snip! You ruined... " His voice roared, giving away their location. 
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<p>For a moment Gabrielle was almost certain he was going to attack her but instead he shoved roughly past her. 
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<p>"Come on we've..." A sudden barrage of weapons' fire halted him in place. Fox shot a quick glance downward into the cut, taking note that the French were under attack rather than shooting at them. "Shit! I need to get down there."
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Sharpe, Harper, Cooper and Perkins were crouching just inside the tree line on the lower side of the road. Harper and Cooper were just settling back into their places after disposing of the bodies of the two advance French scouts. Pat was breathing heavily, winded by the struggle with the soldier he'd taken down. Both of them had been forced to work hard at killing the scouts quietly. Patrick's victim had fought against having his throat cut with more skill than Harper had come to expect of the average frog soldier. The bastard had almost squirmed out of Pat's grip and gotten off a warning shout. His teeth had even torn slightly at Harper's palm but the big Irishman finally managed to put the scout down without giving away the attack. 
</p>
<p>Richard was frowning back down the track, considering what they might be up against. Only when Xena had split from Richard and the forward group, taking Harris and Hagman further south down the road to set up their portion of the ambush did Sharpe seriously begin to second-guess the venture. They hadn't so much planned this attack as simply accepted Xena's suggestions. She had outlined it all so smoothly, consulting him and laying out a plan, coaxing him with smiles and soft words so that he found himself nodding in all the right places. It hadn't felt like coercion at the time but Richard was now thinking that she had talked him into an extremely awkward situation. They were laying an ambush for a force that only the partisan had seen and evaluated. On top of that, if the scouts served as fair examples, this bunch was well trained and tough. The situation was almost laughable. That's what he got for thinking below his belt instead of above his collar, the Major reminded himself. When this was over he and Xena needed to have a long talk. Not that he objected to the sex. The woman was talented and had a body that men would kill for the opportunity to tussle with. Which is what he was doing right now, Sharpe mused. Oh sure, they wanted Colonel Mulder back but if he was going to be honest about it Richard was here because it was what Xena wanted. 
</p>
<p>"We need to try and pick off as many of the bastards as possible before actually closing with them." Richard reminded them needlessly. That earned a vaguely indulgent look from Harper. Sharpe clamped his jaw tighter, trying to stifle the urge to say any other stupid words. 
</p>
<p>The irritation he felt at his own confusion was not something he meant to take out on the men. All in all they were being fairly understanding. Xena had put some effort into charming them as well. Richard hadn't seen Pat preen so obviously in months. In fact the more he thought about it the more he was beginning to suspect Xena's motives for encouraging his attentions. A little self interest wasn't that horrible a thing in a relationship but Sharpe was going to need to factor that awareness into any further actions he took around the woman. 
</p>
<p>The rattle of equipment and marching boots warned them that the leading edge of the patrol was approaching. The sounds made Richard frown, suggesting more men than he expected. Richard noticed Harper was sighting carefully down the barrel of the rifle Mulder had left behind. The American built weapon probably felt oddly light in his hands, accustomed as they were to his seven-barrel volley gun. He would be saving that weapon for when they had to close quarters. 
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<p>Richard's gut tensed further as the French came into sight. This was only the first batch and he counted eight walking soldiers with an officer on horseback just joining them. His mouth pressed into a frown, considering. It was up to Sharpe to decide when the attack would commence. His shot would signal to Xena, Harris and Hagman that they should begin. 
</p>
<p>Richard dared the briefest of glances at Patrick and saw a mirror expression of concern at the size of the approaching force. It became more apparent with every breath that Sharpe should let this 'patrol' pass them by. Shadowing them and attempting to simply snatch Colonel Mulder later tonight, assuming these blokes even had the officer, would make more sense. Sharpe responded to his men's inquiring looks with a discreet wave of his hand indicating they should let the French pass. That earned nods all around. 
</p>
<p>Rifles were just beginning to lower when a single shot rang out rousing the enemy to full alert. 
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<p>"Damn that woman!" Sharpe cursed pushing foreword to get a clear shot. If he lost any of the lads Richard decided he was going to wring Xena's neck for precipitating this uneven battle. The odds looked about three to one or worse. 
</p>
<p> Cooper and Perkins took out the two leading soldiers but most of the others were still out of their straight line of sight. Richard picked out a victim and fired. Considering the distance he should be able to get one reload in before it came down to swords and bayonets. 
</p>
<p>More gunpowder was now exploding from the rear of the column. The French were also returning fire although, in their sudden state of panic, they weren't hitting anything. Their Major, the calmest figure in the lot, wheeled his horse and levelled a pistol sending Sharpe diving to one side. A fountain of dirt and greenery marked the spot Richard had just vacated. The French Major was shouting something at his men, attempting to impose some kind of order on the scattering line. Unfortunately for him that just drew English attention to him even faster. They didn't want an organized resistance. The Frenchman's voice strangled off rather suddenly as Harper's shot winged the man, throwing him out of the saddle and dropping the Major's raised sword to the ground. Another blast from a reloaded rifle crumpled their Sergeant as well and a visible wave of indecision ran through the five still standing soldiers, hampering them even further. If that weren't enough a high pitched, undulating scream echoed up from back down the road suggesting dire straits for the rear end of the column. 
</p>
<p>The French Major was staggering to his feet with a look of shock on his face. His horse had fled and he wasn't exactly sure where his sword had got to. "Surrender!" He evaluated the situation quickly, shouting first to the trees that held the three chosen men and Sharpe then at his own men. "Rendez!" He ordered his soldiers. A nervous glance shot southward. He then looked straight at where Richard had thrown himself. "English. Surrender." The Major located where his weapon had landed. He carefully knelt to pick it up in a manner that indicated he had no intention of wielding it. "Nous rendons." 
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<p>Sharpe got cautiously to his feet and stepped out, wary of the lesser soldiers but they seemed sufficiently cowed. 
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<p>"Commandant. English." The Enemy Major addressed Richard, launching into a complex set of sentences in French. He pointed back to the rear of the column with one hand while extending his sword with the other. 
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<p>Richard caught a reference to 'La Princesa' amid the rest of what sounded like a request. "I don't speak French." Sharpe informed the other. 
</p>
<p>"Parole?" The frustrated man reverted to simple wording, frowning at Harper, Cooper and Perkins as they appeared just in sight with their rifles all levelled. "Parole?" He repeated nervously as Xena's scream began again. 
</p>
<p>Heartily annoyed by the deductions he'd made and with Xena's behaviour Sharpe thoughtlessly did the one thing that was sure to frustrate and annoy the partisan. "Yeah." Richard nodded, crossing the distance to snatch up the other man's extended sword. "I accept your parole. Tell yer men to drop their weapons." Richard used the confiscated blade to gesture to the nearest of the French muskets. 
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<p>A few snapped words from the surrendering Major had all of them disarming themselves. The man then pointed back down the road again and said something more about La Princesa. 
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<p>Richard sighed, wishing he'd kept Harris with him.
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<hr/>
<p>When Xena first dropped into place she had been pleased to note her primary target was clearly visible on his horse and lingering in the rear of the column. Of course the coward would be protected within the heaviest knot of French soldiers. Her pleasure soured quickly as the Major ended a brief chat with the Englishman and kicked his mount, heading for the leading edge without warning. She was tempted to attack early so she had a better chance at the Major but then they would end up fighting the entire column themselves rather than sharing the task with the lads up front. Besides, Richard would be fit to be tied if she forced the ambush when it was supposed to be his call. 
</p>
<p>It didn't help that Hagman and Harris were frowning as they realised the actual number of French soldiers. They didn't look worried, merely annoyed at her unspoken deception. "It's nothing we can't handle." The immortal whispered an assurance. Not that the pair of riflemen could back out now. They had no way to communicate with their commander. Her eyes fixed on the slowly moving line. If Richard didn't begin the attack by the time the last of the donkeys passed her she intended to force his hand. Xena idly wondered if Sharpe would still be speaking to her when this was over but that would depend on whether the English took any damage in the uneven battle. 
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<p>The muscles in her legs twitched demanding action but Xena held perfectly still as the blue-uniformed men trooped past their position. She'd had to wait longer and in even more uncomfortable positions during times past. The warrior used the enforced inactivity to plan her attack out in her mind. The object was to be quick and concise so she could dispense with the back lot and see to her primary business. 
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<p>Chaos came when a single shot cut through the air. Strangely enough it was high above them rather than up ahead. The French went into full alert, searching for the source of the attack. Xena noticed the green-jacketed man in the centre of the group immediately dived for cover between the pack animals. How typical of an English officer. On the up side, as soon as they realised that their captured Colonel was out of the line of fire Hagman and Harris took their shots, knocking two of the enemy off their feet. Xena's blast wasn't nearly as effective. 
</p>
<p>The partisan waited for the French soldiers to discharge their weapons then dropped her own spent pistol in favour of wading into the fray with her sword. Her high pitched battle cry bubbled up without thought as she tore across the divide between herself and her prey. Xena's intent was either to scatter them or put them out of action as quickly as possible so she could move on to the officer in charge. The first of them fell backwards attempting to escape the tip of her sword and tripped into the man behind him. Vague contempt made Xena change her mind about slashing into flesh and she kicked out instead. A heady flush of adrenaline hit her system as her instep met resistance. Movement caught the corner of her eye and the warrior whirled in place. A flick of her wrist snapped her sword around and the heavy hilt, along with her closed grip, slammed right into the centre of a soldier's chest throwing him down with a pained whoosh of air. 
</p>
<p>After so much anticipation her body extended into the pattern of thrusts, ducks and chops eagerly. Xena slammed the French back and to the dirt with ease despite swinging musket stocks and poking bayonets. The only time she actually had to use the bared edge of her blade was when one of them, the Sergeant, brandished a rather wicked looking belt knife her way. The simple parry she used tore the weapon out of his grip, sending a finger or two with it. The man backed away with a howl, further demoralizing the soldiers. 
</p>
<p>Xena swept a fierce glower about the clearing and was pleased to see the few still coherent soldiers had ended their feeble attempts at resistance. They held their hands extended in surrender, too scared to even speak. "Harris. Hagman." The warrior made an impatient gesture indicating that the French were now their problem. She had more important things to do. When the riflemen didn't immediately respond she shot a glare in the direction she'd left the pair. 
</p>
<p>They were out of the sheltering brush far enough to have seen the command but their response was hindered by the state of shock they were in. Harris' head was shaking as he looked over her handiwork. 
</p>
<p>Hagman blew out a breath he seemed to have been holding for too long. "That's fast work, Ma'am." The older man observed with a grimace. 
</p>
<p>"Secure them." Xena ordered curtly, careless of how they took her attitude now her objective was at hand. She no longer needed their goodwill. Her glacial blue eyes shifted to further up the road where Richard and the rest had to be engaging the front half of the column. Retribution was only a short run away. When the desire to let loose with another battle cry pricked at her Xena didn't deny the urge. She wanted that Major shaking in his boots and the regular soldiers scattering before her wrath. 
</p>
<p>Harris let out a low whistle as the tall woman turned away from them with an ear-piercing scream and ran. Drifting clouds of black smoke and the road's bend swallowed her up almost immediately. 
</p>
<p>"Come on." Hagman moved forward, his reloaded weapon pointed in preparation of resistance from the French now that Xena had departed. 
</p>
<p>Harris paced ahead with a slight detour so he could glance into the cover the French pack animals were providing. "Colonel Mulder where are you?" The rifleman shouted out, hoping for some aid in securing the prisoners. "Colonel Mulder, Sir, are you all right?" 
</p>
<p>Movement in the bracken at the side of the roadway tore Hagman's attention away from kicking the discarded French muskets into a pile. "Harris, ware the bushes!" He warned his partner, not wanting to take his own eyes off their prisoners. 
</p>
<p>The red-haired Englishman wheeled around to level his rifle at a stir of branches that didn't appear wind induced. "Step out or I'll fire." Harris warned a shadow-cloaked figure. 
</p>
<p>"You... " A tall man stepped forward. "... called me." He announced gravely. His rifle was held casually but not too far from a prepared stance. The man was strangely dressed in thin skins of grey, brown and black. A long sword and a heavy knife hung off his belt. 
</p>
<p>"Drop the gun and step out here." Harris demanded. His rifle barrel twitched indicating the direction. 
</p>
<p>"I don't have time for this." The newcomer snapped, sweeping an appraising look up the scruffy soldier. "I'm Lieutenant Colonel William Mulder of the South Essex and I'm on the trail of a French spy." He asserted. "Get out of my way and let me tend to my mission." The oddly clothed man took another step towards the clumped donkeys. 
</p>
<p>"Yeah, right." Harris sighted down the barrel of his rifle. "How about you just drop that gun of yours and those blades hanging off you and we'll step up to see what Major Sharpe has to say about you." He counter-offered. "Or I can kill you where you stand if you'd prefer. I'm not partial to either option. It's your choice." 
</p>
<p>An exasperated curse in a language Harris didn't even recognise growled out. The newcomer's attention shifted constantly, as if searching for something. "You're letting a spy escape!" He protested harshly, almost strangled by rage. "This is intolerable." 
</p>
<p>"Three... two... ." Harris began counting down a warning. 
</p>
<p>"Son of a bitch." The intruder's rifle hit the dirt and a frustrated snarl curled the man's upper lip. "I could have you hung for this, damn it. He's going to get away again." 
</p>
<p>"Over there." Harris gestured for the man to join the small knot of French soldiers.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Navarre, much to Alek's annoyance, still hadn't come through with the promised money and letters when a blast and the whiz of a shot riled up the soldiers surrounding him. Aleksandr didn't wait to find out who or why before getting himself out of the way. His reflexes of self-preservation were finely honed and not to be ignored. For the next while most of his effort was put to keeping the donkeys from trampling him during the noisiest part of the conflict. It seemed that the animals liked the sound of gunfire even less than Alek did. 
</p>
<p>When the screeching woman emerged from the roadside Aleksandr retreated even further from the scene. It had to be 'La Princesa Guerrera', he reasoned. The Russian lingered just near enough to barely see a sample of the woman's technique in case he ever had to face her in a fight. All he learned was that, given a choice, he didn't ever want to deal with the fully enraged partisan. 
</p>
<p>Damn. Damn. Damn. She was destroying half his escort to safety and from the sounds of it her companions were laying waste to the other half. If only Navarre had already given him what he wanted Aleksandr would be free to run for Paris. With a snarl of annoyance, he palmed one of his throwing knives and contemplated sending it into the back of the woman's skull while she was distracted with the soldiers. It would solve this problem...  but in the grand scheme of the world he owed the woman a debt for her disposal of Malais. 
</p>
<p>The question was 'if it would be better to simply fade away right now and try to handle his own problems or did Alek want to take his chances here and keep hold of the aid Etienne was offering'. Fuck, but he needed Navarre's winery to hide his siblings. 
</p>
<p>She took the decision out of his hands by tearing the French apart faster than he could resolve the dilemma then calling to her allies in the trees. "Harris! Hagman!" The partisan snapped imperiously. 
</p>
<p>The hiding Russian grimaced and immediately began to re-evaluate the situation yet again. His cover was shaken, but still intact so he should be able to secure Etienne's safety then turn this mess into a brief delay rather than an end to his plans. He'd have to come up with a story to explain his disappearance, but Hell, how hard could that be? Perhaps something about that chubby Hogan instructing him to infiltrate the French immediately rather than completing the assigned mission. With a little luck he could extract Navarre and be on their way by nightfall, assuming Sharpe could contain this wild woman. 
</p>
<p>While he'd been plotting Xena had passed on some directions to the pair of British riflemen and was turning away. Aleksandr was relieved that Harris was one of them. The redhead was the most sympathetic towards Alek of all the Chosen men. It wouldn't take too much effort to convince Harris to go along with his wayward Colonel's orders. 
</p>
<p>Surprisingly enough, as soon as La Princesa strode away Harris called out to 'Colonel Mulder' and paced over towards the pack animals. They must have seen him with the French before the ambush was sprung. "Colonel Mulder, are you all right?" Honest concern coloured the rifleman's tone. 
</p>
<p>Aleksandr, with a faint sigh of satisfaction at the other's encouraging manner, was just about to move into view when the elder Brit, Hagman, shouted a warning. "Harris, ware the bushes." Christ, yet another factor to consider, Alek thought in annoyance. Still, best to see what was up before he presented himself. Crouching low to the dirt, he watched and listened as Harris turned away to confront whoever was creeping up on them. 
</p>
<p>"You...  called me." 
</p>
<p>It only took three words to make Aleksandr's mind start gibbering in reaction. He didn't have to see the newcomer to recognise the speaker. That inviting voice was seared into his mind as surely as Malais' initials were cut into his shoulders. 'My friends call me Fox' resonated inside him yet again, making him shiver. It was intolerable that such a brief encounter with the man had made an unreasonably vivid impression. Alek physically recoiled, the breath completely sucked out of his chest. The situation had turned into a pile of ashes. If Mulder laid hands on him, Aleksandr was a dead man or worse. 
</p>
<p>"Drop the gun and step out here." 
</p>
<p>Harris wouldn't dare take that tone with an officer. Okay, Sharpe's lot didn't know the lay of the land yet. Alek scrambled frantically backwards and over into the thin safety of the underbrush. 
</p>
<p>Mulder was protesting the order in a tone that was all too familiar to Alek. One that simply reeked of command, good breeding and arrogance. The man's distinctive pronunciation caused other words, firmly embedded in Aleksandr's mind, to ricochet about inside his head. (That's what you're after, isn't it pretty one?) The memory almost obliterated what the Canadian was actually saying. Luckily Harris was standing firm against the attempted intimidation even as Alek wriggling away on his hands and knees to keep from drawing any attention to himself. Damn, he knew he liked that clever redhead for a reason. 
</p>
<p>"You're letting a spy escape!" The man was almost as enraged as the Princesa had been though he handled it differently. What Alek could see of Mulder's expression suggested a long, painful death for Aleksandr if they ever met face to face again. Mulder's eyes were practically blazing with hatred. 
</p>
<p>"Three...  two... " Harris continued on, unruffled by sight. 
</p>
<p>"Son of a bitch!" Mulder's temper flared threatening damage to his weapon as he threw it down. He had to be in a state of incoherent rage to risk the gun with such a childish gesture. "I could have you hung for this." The Colonel snapped. "He's going to get away again." 
</p>
<p>You miss me that much, do you Fox? Aleksandr attempted to internally joke himself out of his panic attack. Feeling a little more secure within the cover of the roadside and with Harris completely disregarding Mulder's claim Alek decided to shadow the small group as they moved northward to reconnect with the rest of the attackers. Aleksandr couldn't see any harm in finding out if there might still be a way to extract Navarre from this mess. No one had spotted him yet. It wasn't too late to abandon his possible champion and run if he had to. Moving as quickly as he dared, Alek scrabbled northward through the encroaching bracken to see what was happening to the front end of the column.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>The extent of the noise the approaching soldiers were making made Harper frown and stretch his neck to get a better look at the roadway. Xena hadn't suggested the 'patrol' was large enough to justify too much fuss and bother. Pat was thinking about a dozen or so French soldiers made up their intended target. His mouth tightened into a displeased frown. It seemed the Lady had mislead them because Harper doubted the under-exaggeration was due to poor scouting. Using the tip of Mulder's abandoned rifle as a pointer the Irishman began counting off targets as soon as they appeared. His frown deepened even further. Surely the Major knew better than to take this lot on in a straight out firefight. They would need to shave away a fair lot of the French first to bring the number down closer to one on one. 
</p>
<p>Sharpe, sensibly enough, seemed decided on letting the column pass by. That way they'd have a better grasp on exactly how many French there were and what kind of shape Colonel Mulder was in... or even if the troop had him. They could set up another ambush further up the trail after taking these things into account. 
</p>
<p>Unfortunately it seemed Xena or someone was intent on taking that choice out of the Major's hands as well. A single rifle blast destroyed the idea of letting them pass without incident. French muskets levelled to firing position and eyes searched frantically for targets. From the south came the blasts of their companions defending themselves from a rear attack. Panicked, they followed suit too soon, wasting their single rounds on movement in the surrounding underbrush without hitting anything. 
</p>
<p>One of them, higher than the rest, actually spied the attacking English before discharging his pistol. He took a pot shot at Richard, almost hitting the English Major and thereby sealed his fate. Nobody messed with Pat's best friend without paying the consequences. "Bloody hell." Patrick swore softly. If Sharpe hadn't moved that son of a bitch would have got him. The horse and the uniform made it easy while Mulder's too-light rifle and the bite on his hand worked the opposite effect. Harper's ball threw the French Officer to the ground but he knew it wasn't even close to a killing shot. (Damn it to hell.) 
</p>
<p>Pat didn't bother trying to reload the unfamiliar weapon. He'd leave the second volley to the others. Instead he grabbed up his own gun and crawled, edging closer to the confused French men. With luck he'd take out two or three of the bastards. The good Lord knew with the chaos erupting about them no one was liable to notice his stealthy approach. 
</p>
<p>The hair on the back of his neck stood up as a screeching wail from the back of the column sliced into his ear. Now that was a war cry that would do a banshee proud. It had to be Xena. Harper was just popping up to take down the nearest bunch of Frogs when their officer started yelping about surrender. Patrick almost laughed aloud at how much easier this was than he had feared. The enemy was obviously unsettled about what was happening further down the trail, completely unaware of how small the English force was and were ready to throw down their spent muskets. The Major that Harper had wounded had turned all his attention on Sharpe and was going through the motions of surrendering. 
</p>
<p>Pat, not trusting such an easy victory, cast baleful glares about those soldiers still standing. He kept the barrel of his gun trained in their direction and took a few steps closer to insure a good scatter over them if he fired. 
</p>
<p>Richard, strangely enough, seemed well on his way to taking the enemy officer's parole and was coming over so Patrick left the common soldiers to Cooper and Perkins's supervision. His concern was in keeping his Major safe from harm. 
</p>
<p>A flicker of movement caught the corner of his eye, distracting Pat from the cross language muddle Sharpe and the French officer were attempting. He hoped it was Harris coming to handle translation duties but he feared the back end of the column hadn't gotten the order to surrender. Another few long strides brought the tall figure clear. Xena was closing the distance at a quick pace. Her shoulders were squared and the Partisan's blade was raised menacingly. There was something definitely off here, between her shoving them into the unwanted ambush and the manner of her approach. 
</p>
<p>"Major, Sir." Harper lifted his voice in warning. A quick look showed him that the French soldiers were passive but hesitating in the act of discarding their bayonets as they began to notice the approaching woman. Not that Harper was completely unsympathetic to their fear. It became more obvious as she grew closer that the woman was in an absolute rage. There was no sign of the lady who'd been playfully chatting with them only a couple of hours ago. Xena's grim expression gave the impression she was ready to start hacking heads from bodies. "Major Sharpe." Patrick moved to narrow the distance between himself and his friend. Sharpe needed to look up and see what was barrelling in their direction. 
</p>
<p>Richard, however, simply wasn't aware of the angry Partisan, wrapped up as he was in the French officer's attempts at communication. Worse yet, Sharpe now stood next to that man and was accepting the bloke's sword. Pat was dead certain Xena wouldn't be too pleased to discover that the Frog had been allowed to surrender. He distinctly recalled her wanting see the death of that one last night. 
</p>
<p>Another threatening scream from the woman warrior seemed to confirm his suspicions. She stalked forward, looking the very image of an executioner about to go work. Her jawline was hard as rock and her eyes practically burned from inside. It didn't appear as if she intended to let anyone or anything stop her from slicing that Frog Officer into bloody strips. If the Major had already given the bloke parole, which Pat expected he had, there was going to be big trouble. 
</p>
<p>Harper realised that Richard was thwarting Xena's plans so he set to slowing her down, wanting the Major to have a chance to prepare for her arrival. "Beggin' your pardon, Miss Xena, but could you be telling me what's happening back there? Have the lads got things under control already?" Patrick shifted himself in front of the tall woman, attempting to make her to pause without getting too confrontational. "That was fast." 
</p>
<p>Xena's manner seemed completely at odds with those ferocious war cries and what he suspected of her intentions but the precise control she was demonstrating made her seem all the more frightening. "I've a man to kill." She responded in an eerily calm tone. "And you and your precious Major better stay the hell out of my way or I'll cut down the pair of you as well." Her wintry blue eyes looked past him as if he were no more than a bug on the trail and not one scrap of affection softened her voice. 
</p>
<p>Patrick flinched internally. Oh sweet Jesus. That's all poor Sharpe needed now, was to have the first Lady he'd taken a strong fancy to since his wife died turn on him without a second thought. It'd break his spirit right back down into the pit where it had been when Teresa was first murdered. 
</p>
<p>Xena attempted to side step around him. 
</p>
<p>Harper reluctantly matched the evasion and continued to wall her off from the officers. "I'm not meaning anything by it, Miss Xena, but surely you can spare a brief moment to talk to Major Sharpe before you execute the prisoner." 
</p>
<p>The words and action earned him the Partisan's attention. A dark eyebrow quirked as Xena actually looked at who was delaying her for the first time. "I'm in a hurry." 
</p>
<p>One gloved hand snapped out and, with strength of arm that Harper couldn't believe the woman possessed, he was shoved aside. The Irishman landed a good six feet away on his arse, staring up in complete shock. Patrick hesitated only a breath before scrabbling after the gun she'd knocked loose from his hands. The only person left standing between that woman and her intended target was the Major and Harper feared Sharpe was quite likely to do something honourable and deadly foolish.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>They weren't doing as badly as Navarre feared they would after a month of slacking discipline and an entire day spent in dread filled anticipation. The initial fluster of disorganisation was disheartening but Etienne had managed to send an enemy officer scrambling for cover and he was attempting to settle his soldiers into a proper defence when a hard blow knocked from his saddle. He recognised the searing pain across his rib cage quickly enough. He'd been hit before worse than this more times than he cared to recall. It didn't feel like anything more than a flesh wound. Unfortunately, in the time it took him to stagger back up to his feet his men had lost cohesion once more. Rifle fire was coming from two directions now indicating that the rear soldiers wouldn't be coming to their aid anytime soon and some wild undulating scream was setting his teeth on edge. Tales he'd heard from other patrols had described just such a wail. Damn, they were in even deeper trouble than he feared. It appeared as if the Princesa had hooked herself up with a British rifle company and was in on this ambush as well. Things were growing more disheartening with every breath he took it seemed. 
</p>
<p>Sergeant Bascar was sprawled in the dust like a child's broken toy, Etienne's mount had vanished and he wasn't even sure were his sword had gotten to. Lord have mercy. This had to be the worst his troop had ever preformed. He hoped Malais was burning in purgatory for the damage he was still doing from beyond the grave. Navarre knew it was time to cut his losses and he looked around to see how many of his men were left to surrender. As bad luck would have it, the best of them were down leaving only five adequate soldiers still upright. "Surrender!" Etienne began in English, needing to stop the carnage now. It was a lost cause. "Rendez!" The Major shouted the order to his men. Too many of them were clutching at wounds or laying still. This particular batch of attackers wore British uniforms. They would honour a proper surrender. Better that than trusting his men to the vengeful cruelties of La Princesa. An image of what she had done flashed inside his brain brining a shiver of dread that made him glance nervously in her direction to see if she was approaching. 
</p>
<p>Navarre made himself shake off that thought and he set to searching for the English officer he had shot at earlier amid the attackers "Nous rendons!" His didn't dare trust his grasp of the unfamiliar language. Surely the man would understand such a simple phrase or at least their actions. French musket barrels were dropping, pointing bayonets down to the warm dirt in response to his order. 
</p>
<p>A glint of light caught Navarre's eyes and he bent to retrieve his sword, picking it up below the handle so as to make it obvious he had no intention of wielding it against the blonde Major in rifle green who stood not four feet from Etienne. "Commandant. English." Etienne began then realised the futility of getting across anything in that illogical, awkward language. {Major, I need you to intercede. You can't let the Warrior Princess get her hands on my men. She's a monster.} Navarre gestured to the back of the column trying to make the strange officer understand what kind of threat the woman was while at the same time offering up his sword to make his intentions completely clear. {You've got to control the Warrior Princess, keep her away from the men. It's only fair.} Etienne glanced nervously in that direction wondering the best way to handle the Aleksandr situation. {We have one of your officers, an English Colonel, with us.} Etienne supplied. {We didn't harm him. He's back there with the animals. If you'll just speak to him he'll straighten everything out.} Alek claimed he had held cover against the English patrol he had fled and it was quite possible this was that same bunch. With a little luck the spy might be able to extricate them without further damages. Navarre held his hands clearly at his sides. 
</p>
<p>"I don't speak French." The scruffy Englishman shook his head in denial of what Etienne was trying to get across. 
</p>
<p>This damned man was going to be no help at all. They needed Alek up here. "Parole?" Navarre baby-talked with a sigh of frustration. If he lived through this, Etienne vowed to himself he was going try to learn the basics of that ridiculous language. More uniformed English were appearing from the underbrush. This had to be a proper company, surely they would treat prisoners with the respect they deserved and not allow that woman to hack them all into vulture bait. 
</p>
<p>As if on cue the Partisan's wail cut through the air once more, sending an uncontrollable quake of primal fear up Etienne's spine. "Parole." He insisted again, a bit more franticly, with an unconscious flinch at the nearness of the angry woman. 
</p>
<p>Finally the rough looking officer seemed to grasp what Navarre was trying to do. "Yeah." With a certain amount of reluctance the man walked up and carelessly snatched the extended weapon from Etienne's hand. "I accept yer parole. Tell yer men to drop their weapons." Although the words didn't make sense the Major's accompanying action clarified the command slightly. He was flicking the tip of Navarre's cherished sword as if it were a stick of wood and pointing at the still armed if not ready French soldiers. 
</p>
<p>{These English will see to your safety from the Warrior Princess.} Etienne called over to his men, projecting more confidence than he felt. {Lay down your weapons. It's over.} He turned back to the strange Major. {You are going to contain la Princesa, aren't you?} 
</p>
<p>At that point the reason for his men's hesitation to disarm finally became clear. Turning his head Etienne eyes finally registered that an infuriated sword-toting woman was barrelling down on him. One of the Brits, a Sergeant by the looks of it and no small man at that, attempted to slow her down by planting himself in the partisan's path only to find himself tossed aside like a rag doll scant moments later. 
</p>
<p>The English Major finally noticed the woman's intentions and moved to place himself in her way. The Brit shouted out something about surrender and held his hand up, palm out to halt her. Unfortunately the warrior woman showed no sign of accepting the order. She continued on even faster raising her weapon as she approached. 
</p>
<p>The Englishman dropped Navarre's sword to the trampled ground and pulled his own weapon. "Xena. No!" The name and demand blurted out as the man hesitantly lifted his blade in defence of his prisoner. An explanatory remark about surrender and parole came out of the defending Major, at least that's what it sounded like to Etienne. So the man was taking his word seriously, thank God. The Englishman's shoulders were tight with tension and his stance shifted nervously. 
</p>
<p>A quick glance about the gathered soldiers suggested to Navarre that the Major's move might precipitate yet another conflict. Concern was clear on the faces of the English and the downed Sergeant was scrambling after his fallen gun with an expression of worry that was aimed in the woman's direction rather than at the surrendering French. 
</p>
<p>A clang of metal dragged Navarre's attention back to the woman and his defender. The Major had overextended himself slightly to block a swing of the Princesa's sword. She issued a curt order in a growl that reminded Etienne of a feral cat. The woman emphasised her point with a casual swipe of her weapon that required the Englishman to perform yet another risky block.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>"Xena, no. You can't. I gave him parole. He's under my protection." Richard could feel the knots forming in his stomach. Sharpe knew from the moment that he raised his sword that he didn't stand a chance against Xena in a swordfight, not after the performance she'd put on this morning. He'd also seen the kind of fury that glittered in her eyes too many times not to comprehend the danger of stepping between the partisan and her prey. His actions, made in a state of irritation suddenly seemed incredibly foolish. Protests that he had accepted the French Major's parole would likely mean less than nothing to the angry woman but there was also no way his honour would allow him to stand aside and watch while she slaughtered a man who had surrendered his weapon. He barely blocked a powerful down stroke. "I don't want to fight with you." 
</p>
<p>"Then move. He's mine to deal with." Her sword did another of those lightning fast swipes that jarred him to the core to intercept. What was worse, Xena showed no sign that the actions required any real effort on her part. These brutal cuts were nothing more than warnings. "I could chop off your hands... or worse if you don't get out of my way Richard." Xena announced calmly. 
</p>
<p>"But I thought, hoped, that last night and this morning meant...  Xena please." What a mess. Damn, he should have realised this was how she would react upon sighting the officer she'd been hunting. He shouldn't have accepted the French bastard's surrender so quickly, not after what Xena had told him about the man's past actions. He should have minded Pat's warning voice sooner rather than dismissing his Sergeant's words in favour of the French Major's confusing blabber. The other man wouldn't have been calling to him during the exchange if it weren't a matter of grave importance. This was nothing but one screw up after another, but the fact was, he HAD accepted the request for parole and there was no way he could withdraw it just because it didn't suit Xena's intentions. "Don't do this. I gave my word." 
</p>
<p>"I don't care." She gritted out before stabbing negligently forward. 
</p>
<p>Richard had to jump aside and even with that quick response he still felt fabric snag and tear on her blade. The shallow slice she made stung, hurting more than it should. Christ on a crutch, if she was actually prepared to draw blood over this how much further would she be willing to press her claim? A quick glance to the side showed that Patrick was upright once more and had retrieved his volley-gun. His companion was taking aim at the furious partisan. A part of the Major's brain wondered idly if the Irishman could bring himself to actually kill the woman in time to spare him a deathblow. "I'll make sure he's justly punished, Xena. It's not like... " Sharpe stalled. Desperately searching her expression he was dismayed to find no hint of the flirtatious woman he had spent the morning with. Not a single touch of regard for him seemed to taint her perfect fury. "He's going to pay for his crimes. We'll tell Wellington how he was treating the locals." 
</p>
<p>"You want to 'tell on him'?" Xena barked out a harsh laugh. "This isn't some child's game, Richard. The man's a butcher. His victims demand retribution." 
</p>
<p>"Not like this." He continued to argue, keeping himself between her and the Frenchman. "You'll have to go through me to kill him, and I don't think you're willing to do that." Sharpe announced with more conviction than he thought possible under the circumstances. 
</p>
<p>"If that's the way you want it. Fine." With a look of complete disgust the warrior spun about and flattened him with a completely unexpected backhand across the face. The force of the blow dropped Richard to the ground, face throbbing. Xena snorted dismissively at him and elegantly whirled her blade in a complete circle. She then raised it as if to finish the job by severing his head from his body. 
</p>
<p>Strangely enough Richard thought he heard a woman's voice shouting somewhere nearby. The situation almost made him laugh, it was so odd. He'd always expected to die at another man's hand in the company of nothing but soldiers.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>If Xena had told her once she'd told her a thousand times 'act, don't react' but that simple piece of advice refused to take hold right now. Perhaps her sleepless night was affecting her more than she thought. Gabrielle had bumped Fox's rifle without really considering all the angles. When the ambush had erupted down below she chased after Fox as he searched for an acceptable place to slide down the incline to join in the melee. When the long-unheard and sorely missed 'Aii yii yii' of Xena's battle cry reached her ears most of her reason fled. All that mattered was getting down the ravine wall as quickly as possible. Gabrielle skidded down the rocky slope right behind the Ranger without considering that Dana might have difficulty following in their footsteps. After two thousand years her beloved was only a short run away and Gabrielle needed to close the distance NOW. 
</p>
<p>They hit the bottom with only the briefest of stumbles. Fox skidded wildly, kicking up dust, and took off running again. Damn, he was fast for such a tall man. He was ghosting along the edges of the road, aiming to get to the back of the column as quickly as he could without being stopped by anyone involved in the closer conflict. The Ranger's full night's sleep and long legs gave him the advantage. In no time flat he had vanished along his intended route leaving Gabrielle alone. Not that it mattered. Most of the gunfire had ended but some kind of set-to was erupting not too far off. Another of those distinct battle cries told Gabrielle where she needed to go. Xena was rapidly moving in her direction. 
</p>
<p>Although it was too far to make out the exact words Gabrielle's ears caught the unmistakable tones of her soulmate's voice and a painful thrill pierced her. How tragic was it that after so long her first earful was tainted with anger? The distance between them couldn't close fast enough. The blood was pounding in her ears. 
</p>
<p>The scene that finally greeted her searching eyes was all the more hurtful for the eager anticipation that had been thrilling through her. Gabrielle had expected to find her beloved in the centre of a conflict, but she wasn't prepared for this. The larger battle seemed to have ended and the only person still attempting to fight was Xena. The soldier that the immortal was crossing swords with was clothed in an English uniform just like the one Dana had been wearing all this time. She had turned on those that should have been her allies. Worse yet she was toying with him as a vicious cat with a mouse while the man attempted to guard an unarmed Frenchman. Intimately acquainted with sword work, Gabrielle knew a sadly mismatched duel when she saw one. The Englishman was attempting to stall, speaking earnestly, but Xena was completely disinterested in words. Gods, it was everything Gabrielle had feared through the long day and night, her greatest fear come to life. She really might be too late. 
</p>
<p>When Xena slammed the man to the dirt and flipped her blade about as if preparing to deliver a deathblow a cry of protest broke out without thought. {Beloved! Don't!} The language of her birth tore instinctively forth from Gabrielle's throat. She threw herself forward with every bit of strength left in her legs to interrupt the execution.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Mulder's gaze swept the area as the English soldiers herded him right back to the portion of the column that Fox had attempted to avoid. Krycek was at the rear, damn it, and likely disappearing further into the wilderness with every breath. 
</p>
<p>It wasn't like the English Major in charge of this lot had any time to spare either, Mulder realised as they came in sight of the small knot of people around the bend in the trail. It appeared as if the warrior Princess had done what the English Commanders had feared and turned on her allies. At least Fox supposed the tall beauty battering away at the Major in green was Xena. He doubted that there could be two such women in the area. Her style was everything he expected and more. The man she was trading blows with was so far below her skill level that it was almost laughable. "Your Major is in trouble." Mulder observed aloud. "Perhaps you should return my pistol so I can lend a hand." If the pair of combatants weren't separated soon the blonde was a dead man. 
</p>
<p>The muskets belonging to the French soldiers had been left in a pile back with the animals but the red-haired soldier had hooked the strap of the expensive rifle over his shoulder and shoved Mulder's pistol into his belt. 
</p>
<p>Pale tinted movement caught Fox's eye so he turned away from the glare his request had invoked. Gabrielle was headed towards the conflict at a full out run. That blasted staff of her's, the one Fox was quickly learning to dislike, was twisting in an arch as she ran. Gabrielle surely couldn't be intending on stepping into a swordfight with only her stick as a weapon, Mulder thought. Not that it was going to matter in a moment he decided as Fox turned his attention back to the duel. In a move that simply reeked of contempt the warrior woman backhanded the English officer, tossing him to the dirt. She then twirled her sword, drawing everyone's attention to the brightly flashing metal. Not only was the woman a skilled fighter but she was an artist about it as well. 
</p>
<p>Gabrielle's voice tore through the moment of still the action had precipitated with a horrified shout. Her unrecognisable words couldn't be anything but a protest. Fox dared the wrath of his escort and broke into a run as well. He had to intercept his friend because it looked liked she was about to throw herself right in the way of that descending blade.
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Damn Patrick for stepping in her path. Xena cursed internally. She hadn't wanted to strike out at the good-natured Irishman but neither could she allow his obvious attempts at slowing her down. Every breath that French bastard took was an affront to his victims in their graves. 
</p>
<p>And double damn Richard for taking the monster's parole. She'd made her position absolutely clear last night and had gotten the impression that the pair of them were in complete agreement with her. How dare Sharpe decide on some kind of whim that justice was something that those useless buggers back at Wellington's camp would be given the chance to dispense? Xena had explained the situation. She had told him that she had every intention of cutting the French officer into pieces yet Richard had made no objections until this very moment. The arrogance of the man was staggering, to decide the Frenchman's fate without consulting her when she was the one who had brought them to this point. That he stood there with every expectation of Xena caving into his will was more than the immortal cared to take. 
</p>
<p>Xena's annoyance at Sharpe's presumption was skewing her behaviour. She realised that. It would have been easy enough to simply toss the English Major aside and get on with her task but his thoughtless actions demanded correction. So the warrior woman postponed her retribution long enough to swing her sword at her lover of the night before. 
</p>
<p>"I don't want to fight with you." Richard wielded his sword clumsily. His defence was strong enough but far too primitive. He obviously wasn't used to doing much more than hacking at obstacles with that heavy weapon he carried. 
</p>
<p>"Then move. He's mine to deal with." Xena reminded the Englishman and took another swipe at him. She'd claimed the right to kill this one already. "I could chop off your hands." The immortal reminded him of her skill. "Or worse if you don't get out of my way." 
</p>
<p>"But I thought, hoped, that last night and this morning meant...  Xena please." Sharpe attempted to sway her. 
</p>
<p>The warrior glared coldly. He was one to talk about what the evening before had meant, she thought grimly. She'd made her position clear right from the start and Richard had shown no sign of objecting to her intentions when he was getting what he wanted from her. 
</p>
<p>"Don't do this. I gave my word." 
</p>
<p>As if his given word was supposed to bind her? A single night of shared satisfaction didn't turn her into his servant or his wife. "I don't care." Xena thrust the point of her sword at him. With each warning strike she drew a little closer to seriously damaging him, physically ordering him to walk away from this conflict. The immortal took first blood, reminding him how much better she was with her sword. 
</p>
<p>"I'll make sure he's justly punished, Xena. It's not like... " Sharpe hedged. "He's going to pay for his crimes. We'll tell Wellington how he was treating the locals." 
</p>
<p>And then those stupid bastards would ransom the Frenchman back to put more gold in their pockets. Xena couldn't help but laugh at Sharpe's naïve expectation of justice being given by the British officer class. "You want to 'tell on him'?" The warrior woman asked sarcastically, what the hell was the fool Brit thinking. "This isn't some child's game, Richard." She responded with an amused sneer. "The man's a butcher. His victim's demand retribution." 
</p>
<p>"Not like this." Sharpe continued to block her away. "You'll have to go through me to kill him, and I don't think you're willing to do that." 
</p>
<p>The insolence in that statement twanged jarringly across every nerve she had. It didn't help that the French officer standing behind Richard chose that moment to actually look her in the face. Up until this point Xena thought she had herself under control but absolute fury roared up and attempted to consume all rational thought. "If that's the way you want it. Fine." She'd teach Richard a lesson that he wouldn't soon forget. Xena whipped in a circle to gather up as much momentum as possible. Her hand shot out, connected with Sharpe's face with a satisfying smack of flesh on flesh, and knocked the Brit down. Going for the most dramatic effect possible the immortal spun her bared blade then raised it high, demanding the Major's attention. The way his eyes widened in fear was almost satisfying enough to stop her but Xena decided to go for the full performance. {Beloved! Don't!} Inside her head, more clearly than it had sounded in over a thousand years, the immortal could hear Gabrielle screaming out her objection to the punishment she was inflicting on her lover of the night before. If she didn't know better Xena would've swung about in search of the source of the sound, fully expecting to meet the bard's disappointed green eyes. 
</p>
<p>The warrior woman grimaced and let her blade begin its descent towards Richard's neck. She'd halt the movement before she cut skin, but Sharpe wouldn't soon forget the feelings that impending death would send rushing through him. To Xena's complete astonishment the edge of her sword thunked against hard wood sending a bone-rattling jolt up her arms. She wouldn't have been surprised by the blast of a rifle but that someone would dare to interfere in such a manner was inconceivable. Flashing blue eyes shifted to discover which of Sharpe's lads had the balls to step in only to discover something even more improbable. 
</p>
<p>A young woman. A young blonde woman. The immortal's brain processed sluggishly. A young blond woman who looked like her long departed soulmate. Xena didn't know whether to drop her weapon and stare or disembowel the doppelganger for inflicting this kind of cruel torment on her. 
</p>
<p>The blonde held her ground, keeping up a steady pressure with her tall staff so that the partisan's blade got no closer to Sharpe's prone form. "Xena" The newcomer looked up with huge green eyes that attempted to convey more than words could hope to achieve. Her gaze seemed to be trying to swallow the immortal's essence whole. {By the Gods, my love, I'd forgotten how magnificent you are.} The compliment was in a hushed, reverent tone. 
</p>
<p>It couldn't be. Xena yanked her sword free and raised it in threat, this time against the interloper. "Who the hell are you?" The warrior demanded in a bare whisper. All the air had been torn out of her lungs by shock and rage. Her muscles bunched and screamed demanding some kind of physical reaction to the adrenaline now burning its way through her body. 
</p>
<p>The first response was a pained blink. The blonde flinched back, anguish marking her lovely face. {Beloved, has it been so long? It's me, Gabrielle} 
</p>
<p>Her staff had lowered. Now was the time to strike the woman down, but... Greek. The immortal's mind managed to realise. An old, almost ancient dialect. Something deep inside her wailed. [Impossible!] 
</p>
<p>{Lower your sword, Beloved. I can explain.} 
</p>
<p>{Impossible!} Xena roared back in that same language and dared a powerful swipe of her long sword. "IMPOSSIBLE!" She reverted to English as another chip was torn and thrown off the stained staff leaving a pale wound behind. The warrior launched into an attack with every bit of skill she possessed but each move of the assault was either blocked by that rapidly moving stick or evaded entirely. 
</p>
<p>Several blows into the attack the interloper's look of astonishment was replaced by a frown of annoyed anger. {Xena stop it!} She demanded imperiously while fending off some of the immortal's most effective moves. {It's me, Gabrielle. I've come back. It's me, beloved. I can prove it to you.} For the first time the blonde made an offensive move, rapping the immortal hard on the ribs to make her point. {STOP IT!} 
</p>
<p>Panting more from the emotions tearing through her than from exertion, Xena pulled back away from the conflict and stared at her opponent once more. Gods, she wished she could believe but she didn't dare. Searching the newcomer's face and comparing it to slightly faded memories told her it was. That amazing staff work that Xena had never seen duplicated told her it was. The very blood rushing inside her body surged at the possibility but there was no way that Xena could believe the fates could allow this to happen. It had to be some kind of trick because if it were true, that Gabrielle could return, then why hadn't her soulmate done just that long before now?
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>Is that an Indiana Jones cliffhanger or what?
</p>
<p>Insert a vision of Jim snickering maliciously here ;- ) 
</p>
<p>
  <a id="notes" name="notes"></a>
</p>
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      <td> La Princesa Guerrera
<br/>Chapter IX
<br/>By Carla Jane and Jim
<br/>January 2000
<br/>THE FULL DISCLAIMER LIST IS AT THE BEGINNING OF CHAPTER I. Perhaps you should go and check out all the warnings if you're a sensitive reader
<br/>Ownership: The characters from Xena: Warrior Princess, the X-files and Sharpe are not and never will be ours. This is all for fun, not profit... honest.
<br/>Violence, language and sexual content: This chapter gets an R rating for violence and dirty words. The story, as a whole, contains f/f, f/m, and m/m sexual relationships.
<br/>If any of this offends you, or if you are underage, or it's illegal where you live... please, stop reading now.
<br/>Direct any compliments, productive criticism or orders to "hurry up, damnit!" to:
<br/>[email removed]
<br/>Feel free to visit our homepage at:
<br/>Other websites—[broken link removed] 
</td>
    </tr>
  </tbody>
</table>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Our story is set during the Napoleonic wars as illustrated by Bernard Cornwell in his series of 'Sharpe' books and the subsequent TV movies. As our tale begins the British forces are pushing the French out of Spain. Richard Sharpe is now a Major and has been recently widowed. Xena, because of the ambrosia she consumed (Episode: The Quest), is immortal and has been travelling the world for two thousand years since the death of her soulmate, Gabrielle.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/><b>La Princesa Guerrera X<br/>by Carla Jane and Jim</b>
</p>
<p><br/><br/>
<i>Gabrielle: I hope I never disappoint you, Xena. 
<br/>Xena: Impossible.
<br/>Gabrielle: I've learned that anything is possible.</i> 
</p>
<p>Harper was within a breath of pulling the trigger on his shotgun when a slight blonde woman appeared out of nowhere shouting some babble and inserting herself into the path of Xena's falling blade. As hard as it was to believe, the newcomer was actually able to hold back the furious partisan with a mere stick. The two women traded a few unrecognizable words and a great number of blurringly fast blows. Confident that Xena was distracted temporarily, Patrick rushed over to drag his Major upright and out of the middle of the scuffle. Harper motioned the French officer back as well to provide the combatants with a clear area. 
</p>
<p>Sharpe didn't even bother to dust himself off. His attention was locked on the women. An expression of disbelief and betrayal, a sight Pat was all too familiar with, marked Richard's face. The temptation was still there to shoot the Partisan while she was involved with the newcomer. Sharpe had suffered through enough pain when he'd lost his wife. Xena's careless abuse of the Major's affections wasn't something Patrick wanted to let slide. 
</p>
<p>Harper grimaced and kept a tight hold on his volley-gun. His attention had to be split, much to his annoyance. There were prisoners about who were still altogether too close to their discarded weapons. The French officer's horse was running off. Harris and Hagman were just coming into sight with more captives, one of which was struggling against Hagman's grip, attempting to escape custody. Sharpe was cursing quietly and still didn't seem completely prepared to take control of the situation. Pat simply couldn't afford to watch the conflict between the little blonde and Xena. Besides the things that they were saying to each other didn't make any sense to him. "Perkins! Gather up those muskets." He ordered in a loud voice, breaking into the young rifleman's fascination with the unfolding duel. "Cooper! Mind the prisoners." Pat reached out to touch Sharpe's arm. "Sir, what should we do about... ?" Harper's question broke off unfinished as he noticed yet another source of movement. A small smudge of English rifle green appeared in the direction that the blonde girl had come from. It was a single figure running fast towards them. 
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Dana would have screamed but she didn't have the breath to spare. Her sore body was protesting the tumble she'd taken down that last section of the incline. Fox and Gabrielle had to be related to mountain goats to have taken that pitiful excuse for a path down the cliff without slowing down or breaking their necks. Her legs felt like they were made out of wet straw as she ran to catch up with her companions and her throat hurt from the panting gulps of air she was taking in. 
</p>
<p>The small clumps of soldiers became visible first. Dana saw green and blue coats with pants of grimy white on some of them. The soldiers, however, were for the most part just standing still. Motion caught her attention, a scene she couldn't quite reconcile with her expectations. 
</p>
<p>Gabrielle was squaring off against a tall, dark-haired woman. Her staff was fending off hits from a swinging sword. Dana's friend shouted angrily and whacked her opponent in the ribs. That strike seemed to have had more than a physical impact. Finally coming close enough to be able to pick out faces, Dana watched as Gabrielle's duelling partner stepped back shaking her head in denial of what was occurring. It was enough to make Dana's heart ache even more than her body. That had to be Xena. Yet, rather than meeting Gabrielle with joy at the reunion, the partisan was projecting nothing but anger and distrust. The dejection her friend was reacting with made Dana want to rush in and shield Gabrielle with her own body. 
</p>
<p>Xena's chin was raised and the line of her jaw was tight. That dark head was shaking back and forth while she stepped away. The two women were exchanging curt words. 
</p>
<p>Dana absently noted that Major Sharpe and Sergeant Harper were nearby. Confident that she'd be in no danger from the soldiers since they knew her, the Irish woman pushed her protesting body into closing the last of the distance so she could slide up to Gabrielle's back and laid a supportive palm on her friend's shoulder. Gathering her courage about her, Dana glared up at the woman who was responsible for Gabrielle's look of anguish. 
</p>
<p>"Miss Dana! What are you doing here?" 
</p>
<p>Patrick let out a surprised exclamation but the redhead continued to keep her attention on the confrontation between the two women. 
</p>
<p>Xena snapped out some especially sharp complaint causing the bard to flinch back into Dana. All about them the men were breaking into cautious action and shouting at each other but the women continued to stand quietly within the centre of a potential storm. 
</p>
<p>It took Fox's roaring out a protest to slice into the cocoon Dana had felt building. Her fiancée was struggling with one of Sharpe's men in an attempt to get closer to his traveling companions. He was snapping out his name and rank but earning absolutely no creditability with the rifleman. One of them seemed to be preparing to use Fox's own pistol on him if the Ranger didn't stop struggling. Two loyalties plucked at Dana. She decided to resolve the dilemma by diverting Gabrielle from the stalemated confrontation with her former lover. 
</p>
<p>"Gabrielle. They're going to hurt Fox." Dana squeezed the blonde's arm and pointed out the scuffle to Xena's rear. That done she raised her voice to protest the rifleman's threat. "Mr Harris! Don't!" 
</p>
<p>Gabrielle made a pacifying 'wait' sort of gesture with her open hand at Xena then set out to put a halt to Mulder's difficulty with Dana in tow. The Irish woman shivered at the intense burn of emotions boiling in the Partisan's pale eyes as Gabrielle turned away. 
</p>
<p>"Fox! Calm down." The bard's tone soothed. "Give Dana a moment to explain to them who you are." The blonde paced across to where Mulder was being restrained. 
</p>
<p>"Mr Harris, please, don't hurt him." 
</p>
<p>The Irish woman's arrival turned the suspicious frowns that Gabrielle was met with to welcoming smiles. "Miss Scully, what are you doing here, M'am?" Hagman asked. 
</p>
<p>"This is Lieutenant Colonel William Mulder." Dana rushed out the announcement. "There was a horrible mistake. That man who came out with you is a spy." She explained. 
</p>
<p>"I told you." Fox shoved impatiently at the slackened hands on his arms. "The spy is back there. Running away, no doubt." 
</p>
<p>When Mulder made a move as if to return to that section of the road Gabrielle caught at him, stopping the action. "Wait Fox. Some things need to be sorted out before you run off again." 
</p>
<p>"None of this matters." He said dismissively. 
</p>
<p>Still she kept a tight grip on him. "I must disagree, Lieutenant Colonel Mulder." Gabrielle wielded his title like a weapon. "These men, your men, have just captured a French patrol and the officer in charge of it. I think, Colonel, it would be best if you helped to sort this situation out before seeing to your personal concerns." Her tone was stiff. 
</p>
<p>"Fox, please." Dana seconded the request. "There's trouble between Xena and the men. Let's help settle one thing before beginning another." 
</p>
<p>"All right, damn it." Mulder extended his hand. "Give me my weapons back, Soldier." He demanded. 
</p>
<p>Dana caught Harris' eye and motioned her encouragement. "He really is Colonel Mulder. You've my every assurance." She attempted to look sincere. 
</p>
<p>With obvious reluctance the red-haired rifleman held out the pistol. 
</p>
<p>Fox grabbed it. "And my rifle too." He prompted. 
</p>
<p>"Beggin' your pardon, Miss Scully." Harris' tone was tentative. "But he's not dressed like any officer I've ever seen before. Surely you understand our reluctance, Miss... Sir." He inclined his head slightly at the angry newcomer. "I need to speak to the Major about all this." 
</p>
<p>"The spy stole my Rifle uniform and I couldn't very well travel discreetly in one of those bloody lobster jackets." Fox closed the distance and snatched his weapon. "Where's Major Sharpe then? The sooner this is straightened out the quicker I'll be on Krycek's trail." He grimaced. "And you two! Mind the French. Take them over with the rest of the prisoners." 
</p>
<p>Dana's fingers flexed as if she might reach out for Mulder but then her hand found Gabrielle's instead. 
</p>
<hr/>
<p>The sensible thing to do, Aleksandr knew, would be to count his blessings and run like a rabbit. He wasn't a match for the people assembled in the clearing just below his vantage point. His allies were neutralized and the victors would happily blow his head off if he poked it above the brush line. Still, he lingered. 
</p>
<p>Damn it to hell. He wanted Navarre's money and the sanctuary that the Frenchman had offered. If there was a way to extract Etienne from the English without risking his own life then Aleksandr intended to discover it. 
</p>
<p>The first point in his favour was the obvious conflict among the temporary allies. Sharpe had fought with the woman who had to be the Warrior Princess. Some new arrival, who seemed to be in league with Mulder, had sparred with the Partisan as well. Fox was, true to Aleksandr's expectations, completely at odds with the riflemen already even though they'd just met. Perhaps between the conflicts and the pressure of dealing with captives a weakness would present itself. 
</p>
<p>The Russian settled in the most comfortable pose that the local camouflage would allow for and studied his targets. The primary threats had to be examined first. Mulder was at the top of the list. If the Canadian was hot-tempered enough to chase Aleksandr this far, he wasn't going to stop simply because of this muddle. Mulder had reclaimed his weapons and was on his way to convincing the riflemen of his identity in record time. Alek had hoped the lot of them would have dismissed Mulder's claims out of hand. The acceptance seemed to have a great deal to do with the two women that had appeared. The redhead spoke to Hagman and Harris and all was peaceable, if not perfect. Then there was the blonde who'd stood in Xena's path. The redhead might be Mulder's fiancée but Alek had no idea on the other's identity. Either way, by dragging a couple of females on his quest Fox was just inviting trouble. 
</p>
<p>Aleksandr's thoughts continued to simmer as the redhead ran to Major Sharpe and barely stopped short of throwing her arms around that bastard Harper. She seemed to be the one introducing the handsome Fox to the pair who ranked second on Alek's threat list. The scenario practically screamed 'Achilles' heel' into Aleksandr's ear. 
</p>
<p>He didn't miss the wary stare Xena had fastened on the blonde hovering by the side of the woman who was likely Dana Scully either. As a point of fact, the blonde's presence seemed to be the only thing distracting the Warrior Princess from her intent to kill Etienne. 
</p>
<p>Well, wasn't this just too simple for words. A plan leapt almost fully formed into Aleksandr's brain. The Russian wasn't fond of using women in his ploys or taking hostages but Fox was the one who had brought them into the conflict thus making them fair game. 
</p>
<hr/>
<p>"We don't have the time or the men to take prisoners." Lieutenant Colonel Mulder responded to Harper's mention of the French soldiers before Sharpe had a chance to. Despite the fact he had reached the same conclusion, Richard resented that the unfamiliar officer was speaking first. That was assuming the strangely clad man was indeed their Lieutenant Colonel. Sharpe had no reason to doubt Dana Scully, but accepting a new commander on the word of a woman he barely knew made him uncomfortable. 
</p>
<p>"Kill 'em all." Xena's jaw was tight as she looked to Gabrielle for the bard's reaction. 
</p>
<p>Mulder said, "That would work." At the same time that protests raised all about. 
</p>
<p>Dana Scully and the blonde beside her seemed especially appalled at the possibility. "You don't kill someone simply because they're inconvenient." The Bard insisted. 
</p>
<p>"Gabrielle." Mulder began. "Don't start that argument up again." 
</p>
<p>Xena noticeably flinched at hearing the name. 
</p>
<p>"It's completely impractical to take them back to camp or keep them with us under guard." Fox explained. "If Krycek slips away from me now I'll never find him again. I can't afford to be burdened with a bunch of prisoners." 
</p>
<p>"We strip the soldiers of weapons and supplies then send them on their way." Richard interrupted before the debate went any further. "We take the officer back to Lord Wellington." He outlined policy. 
</p>
<p>"So they can re-arm themselves and attack us again next week? How absurd." Mulder shook his head and looked to Xena, expecting that she would understand his reasoning. "You must realise how foolish the idea of letting them go is, Princesa." He insisted. "I saw what you did to those French soldiers back at those farms. You understand how ruthless you have to be to fight ahead of the frontline in enemy territory. The display you put on was inspired, the way you used the bodies to send out your message...  you've an excellent grasp of mental scare tactics." 
</p>
<p>For half a second Xena felt a twinge of pleasure at hearing her strategy complimented so sincerely, then she noticed Gabrielle's shudder of distaste and the way the blond looked down and away, grimacing. Sharpe was also staring at the partisan with a curious expression on his face, as if wondering exactly what Mulder was referring to. 
</p>
<p>The Canadian continued on. "Chopping off that Sergeants hands was... " 
</p>
<p>"Shut up." Xena cut him off with a hostile scowl. Gabrielle had to have seen what Xena had done. There was no other explanation for the look of revulsion that the warrior saw suddenly clouding her soulmate's expression. 
</p>
<p>Fox's mouth snapped shut, reminded of how the women had reacted to his earlier enthusiasm for the Princesa's display. Christ, he couldn't seem to say anything right lately. Mulder turned to Major Sharpe and dragged his comments back to the topic at hand. "What I was trying to point out is that back in the Canadas..." 
</p>
<p>"Pardon me, Sir." Sharpe cut in, using the courtesy title with a certain amount of disbelief. "But we ain't in the colonies. We're in Spain." He stated the obvious. "Now I don't know who you are, despite what Miss Dana says,so all things considered we'll be sticking to the way we do things here...  Sir." The honorarium sounded even more like an afterthought the second time. 
</p>
<p>"He really is Lieutenant Colonel Mulder." Gabrielle offered without coming any closer. "I travelled with him and the supply caravan coming in to Wellington's camp." 
</p>
<p>"No offence, Lass." Sharpe spared the blonde woman a brief glance. "But I don't know you from a hole in the ground either so your word don't mean much to me." 
</p>
<p>Xena's snarl cut across the entire scene making everyone jump. "SHE DOESN'T LIE!" 
</p>
<p>The endorsement caused a flare of hope to spark up inside Gabrielle. 
</p>
<p>Sharpe responded with a slight frown to the Partisan's interference. Still, as long as the possible Colonel didn't make any decisions that Richard himself didn't approve of it couldn't hurt to play along with the idea. "So long as we stick to regular procedure, Colonel Sir, I don't see any reason for us to fight over command." The hard glitter in Sharpe's eyes suggested that any attempt the newcomer made to take complete control would be doomed to failure. 
</p>
<p>Some hostile emotion flitted across Mulder's face and it looked for a moment as if an argument would erupt but the darkness passed. "Sure. Fine. Whatever." Fox gestured vaguely with his hand. "I don't have the time to waste on trivialities." 
</p>
<p>"That French Major is mine." In the momentary break Xena re-asserted her claim. 
</p>
<p>"We're not talking about the Major." Sharpe snapped back. "We're talking about the soldiers. Pat, see to confiscating their gear then send them packing." 
</p>
<p>"Yes, Sir." Harper overdid his sense of obedience to his Major, playing it up for the audience. 
</p>
<p>"Are we done here?" Mulder's attention had wandered down the road again. "Because I've more important work to do." 
</p>
<p>"Fox." Dana touched his arm. "You've obligations." She might have said anything to keep him from haring off again but her choice was the worst possible one. 
</p>
<p>"Obligations." He repeated the word as if it were a curse. 
</p>
<p>"Perhaps we should take this somewhere else?" Gabrielle suggested. Her hand gestured, indicating the soldiers that Patrick was preparing to release. "Somewhere more secure so we can discuss our problems and come to some kind of understanding." The Bard looked around for assent, choosing to meet Xena's gaze last. The force of the Warrior's stare was enough to set her soul vibrating like a plucked string on a lyre. It rattled her to the very core. {We need to talk, Xena. I promise. We will talk.} She proclaimed. 
</p>
<p>{Damned straight.} The two words ground out between gritted teeth. The ancient language felt strange after all this time but it seemed the only appropriate way to address Gabrielle. 
</p>
<p>"Sorry, Sir." Hagman paced over and presented himself to the Major. "We did a quick run back to collect the animals and such-like. There's no sign of the Lieutenant Colonel or where he might have got to. Not a first glance. The ground is too messed up." 
</p>
<p>"I'M COLONEL MULDER!" The Canadian snapped yet again, his frustration boiling over. "Do you men not have one brain between you?" Mulder's tone dropped to a gritty complaint and glaring down at his feet he rumbled almost to himself. "That bastard was nothing but a spy, a liar and dirty whore." Fox looked up to glare fiercely about the gathering. His voice rose to a more normal tone. "I AM Lieutenant Colonel William Mulder." He repeated precisely. "Stop calling that damned spy by my name." 
</p>
<p>Dana, who had flinched away from the original roar, backed away from Fox and into the protection of Major Sharpe's frame. Gabrielle's head snapped around and she stared, eyes impossibly wide at their travelling companion as the last piece of the puzzle finally dropped into place for her with his choice of muted insults. It made perfect sense all of a sudden. Fox's use of the spy's first name, a few completely inappropriate comments, the almost insane zeal with which Mulder was pursuing his quarry. In some way or manner Fox must have had a liaison with the spy. The bard shot a quick glance Dana's way, wondering if the redhead had caught the quiet complaint, and with it, the implication behind Fox's choice of accusations. It was hard to tell. Dana looked startled but not appalled. Perhaps she still hadn't made the connection between all the hints Mulder had given away over the last few days. 
</p>
<p>"Fox." Gabrielle moved forward to seize Mulder's arm and drag him a few steps away from the surrounding audience. Her voice dropped to the barest whisper that would reach his ear. "Unless you want to deal with the consequences of what you calling Alex a 'whore' involves... " The bard used both the spy's name and the word Fox had employed to get her point across. "I'd suggest you calm down, start thinking like an officer, and give me a hand straightening out this mess before you chase after your previous indiscretion and try to silence him." During the days she'd spent in his company Gabrielle had seen Mulder run through a wide range of emotions and attitudes but this had to be the first time she'd seen him look honestly frightened. 
</p>
<p>His voice was a horrified hiss. "You don't understand." Fox didn't even try to free himself from her grasp. "Son of a... You can't tell anyone, Gabrielle. You wouldn't." He searched her expression for confirmation of his desperate hope. "You don't understand what it would mean." Mulder repeated with a darting glance in the direction of Major Sharpe and his fiancée. 
</p>
<p>"Just... " She released his arm. "Just get a hold of yourself and let's get this muddle sorted out. I need to concentrate on Xena. You have to deal with the soldiers, Dana and see about keeping yourself in control. I do not want a bloodbath here. I refuse to accept that. YOU are going to see it doesn't happen." Gabrielle realized that sounded a bit like blackmail but she was running out of patience. 
</p>
<p>Mulder drew in a breath, his body straightening out as he did so. A completely calm mask dropped down over his expression and he turned back to the others. The voice that boomed out simply dripped with the expectation that he would be obeyed without question. "Policy being what it is. Release the common soldiers. Gather up what is practical of the supplies for our own use. See to it that the French Major is placed under guard." Fox dictated. "Senorita Xena, your claims will be addressed once the practicalities of the day are taken care of. You have my every assurance." 
</p>
<p>The British riflemen perked up, responding to the familiar tone of command but every single one of them looked to Major Sharpe for confirmation of the orders. With a barely smothered smirk Richard nodded his head signalling to the men that they should comply. 
</p>
<hr/>
<p><i>Gabrielle: "You put people on a pedestal, sooner or later they're going to fall and your expectations fall with them."</i> 
</p>
<p>The place they chose to set up a temporary camp wasn't too far from the ambush point but it seemed distant enough that they wouldn't be bothered. An inventory of the things they had taken in the attack was in order and some kind of agreement had to be reached regarding the French Major before they could move forward. 
</p>
<p>In a compromise to Xena's wishes, the Frenchman's wrists were bound and he was under guard despite having offered his parole to Sharpe. Right at this moment, the man sat on the ground in the centre of all their activity. Only the most cursory questions had been asked of the Frenchman because Xena, Mulder, and on Sharpe's behalf, Harris, would all need to be in attendance for the interrogation. For the present time a perimeter, a meal and some discussions amongst themselves seemed to be taking precedence. Dana was explaining how it was that she, Gabrielle and Mulder came upon Sharpe's small company. Mulder was supplying whatever assurances he could come up with to prove his claim of identity and shooting loaded glances towards where the blonde bard had removed herself to speak to Xena in private. 
</p>
<p>In all the years of her life and afterlife, few situations had left Gabrielle speechless. Words were a tool she wielded with comfort and ease. However right at this moment, the Bard was having a difficult time choosing where to begin. Xena wasn't offering much encouragement either. The warrior was offering up an expression so cold it could have been a mask. It was hard to pierce that disguise. Gabrielle may have been living inside of Xena's head for two thousand years but she was out of practice at deciphering her beloved's expression. 
</p>
<p>"I know it's been so long." The blonde began. "And I'm the last person you ever expected to see again." 
</p>
<p>Xena's dark brows were drawn together. "How?" She demanded curtly. "If it's really you, how?" the tall woman used the ancient Greek tongue they had once shared, thereby insisting on even more proof of Gabrielle's identity. 
</p>
<p>"I'd asked for release before." Gabrielle explained. "So many times I'd lost count of my requests and who I'd made them to. Hades. Artemis. All the old Gods, then eventually the newer ones." 
</p>
<p>Xena leaned back against a tree, distain and disbelief still stamped on her expression. 
</p>
<p>The bard sympathised. The cruelty of making the immortal walk the earth for two millennia alone was enough to crush anyone's spirit. She should have been prepared for anger, resentment and denial from her lover. It was a natural response but her excitement over the reunion had subsumed more practical thoughts. 
</p>
<p>One hand flicked from within tightly crossed arms prompting the blonde to continue. 
</p>
<p>"I had no allies left, only the shadows of souls that were connected to me. Most of their core essences had moved on with other lifetimes. The Gods we knew are little more than token entities anymore." Gabrielle tried to explain. "Still, when I realised how badly you needed me at your side I went to them all again. I cornered every power you and I have ever brushed against and pleaded our case. I protested that separating soulmates for so long was unreasonably evil. I petitioned anyone who seemed the least bit sympathetic to our plight. I sought out beings the like of which I'd never imagined when I was still alive and pleaded my case." Green eyes searched for some sign that her words were having an impact. 
</p>
<p>Xena's frown was cut into her face just as strongly as ever. 
</p>
<p>"I took each one of their blessings and... " Gabrielle drew in a hitching breath. "I stacked and moulded their blessings, forming a sword of power." Even thinking of the spiritual weapon she had briefly held in her hands sent a warming pulse through her. "Each time I found another entity willing to add their approval to my quest, I would slice at the sky." Condensing the internal journey into a comprehensible timeline was nearly impossible. "The last was a guardian Angel with an incredibly sad face and huge, dark eyes." Of course there was more to the telling of that particular encounter, but now wasn't the time for it. "The Angel, she offered me such a torrent of force that I thought the flow would burn my fingers away. That's what it took. The power I gathered finally peaked." The bard's voice took on a bold reverence. "It was like cutting a slice in the fabric of the universe. The sword dissolved and there was a shimmering tear that I could just barely squeeze though." The let down that always came at the end of a fine tale hit Gabrielle. "I found myself in Greece. As soon as I could I saw about making my way here. That trip took much of the time between your call and my arrival." 
</p>
<p>Xena's pale eyes blinked. She still didn't speak. 
</p>
<p>"Silence isn't helping, Beloved." Gabrielle attempted to coax Xena into revealing some emotion. "I know you've been alone a long time. Too long, far too long." The blonde missed the intimacy of the binding between them sharply. What wouldn't she give to hear her beloved's mind voice at this moment? 
</p>
<p>"Two thousand years." The warrior finally whispered out a response. 
</p>
<p>"I know." Gabrielle acknowledged. "I shared your every thought, Beloved. I know how hard it was." 
</p>
<p>A shout would have hurt less than the hiss that erupted from Xena's lips. "Then why did you wait so long? How could you?" Belief was no longer an issue and that left the warrior to deal with an anger so hot it felt as if the blood were boiling inside her veins. "I needed you." Xena's admission was closer to an accusation. 
</p>
<p>"I came as soon as I could." 
</p>
<p>"Not soon enough." She lashed out both emotionally and physically, slamming her hand against a limb of the tree with enough force to crack it. Anger, pain, guilt, shame and nearly every darker emotion Xena knew of brewed themselves up into a maelstrom inside of her. If she'd even suspected that her beloved would be returning to her side the warrior would have done so many things differently over the last few days, few years, even over the centuries. Gabrielle knew, she had to know, every single horrible thing Xena had done during their separation. The warrior had never expected to have to face those clear green eyes again and be forced to acknowledge her past actions in the face of Gabrielle's comparative purity. It wasn't just the matter of her transgressions of the last few months either but of every act she had committed over their entire time apart. Xena had raged against the division but this reunion was uniquely painful in it's own way. 
</p>
<p>Gabrielle closed the distance between them and attempted to place her palm against the taller woman's arm. It tore her heart that Xena flinched away from the contact. "But without the justification of how much time we'd been parted I would never have earned enough sympathy from the powers to come back to you." Gabrielle insisted. "I tried so may times before. I was willing to accept existence as only a spirit. I pleaded for rebirth and was told my tie to you prevented it. How absurd! At times when I heard you wishing for death, I begged that it would be allowed so we could be reunited and finally continue on together. I would have taken any option but none were allowed." 
</p>
<p>Xena's mouth was a thin slash across her lovely face. 
</p>
<p>"Don't you think I would have come sooner if it were possible?" The bard was on the edge of tears. 
</p>
<p>"I don't know anymore!" The admission was a low growl. "I don't know anything anymore." Xena's eyes closed against the thoughts of what her activities had done to the other woman. Gods, one of the last things Gabrielle must have seen through her eyes were the images of death and destruction that the warrior had used to entice herself back into movement when the French had hacked her apart months ago. The guilt that Xena would have to recognize and contend with now that she faced her other half was monumental. Denying her conscience when it spoke in Gabrielle's voice was one thing, attempting to smother those same inconvenient scruples when her beloved stood right in front of her was impossible. Xena simply couldn't afford to feel this kind of regret, not now. Small mercy the communion between them hadn't been in effect last night when she'd used the beloved husband of an old friend as a convenience and bound him to her side by way of sex as a tool. Xena blinked once and her face settled into the hard lines that she used to deny any emotion whatsoever and backed away. 
</p>
<p>The action pushed Gabrielle over the line. The blonde collapsed down into a huddled crouch. Her face dropped into the shield of her cupped hands as she considered the possibility that her soul mate was denying her after all. 
</p>
<p>It could have been that the display might have cut through Xena's bleak mind-set but fate and Dana Katherine Scully decided to intervene. The Irish woman broke away from the gathering of men to cross the distance and turn herself into a human shield. Dana aimed a burning blue glare up at the warrior Princess as she knelt down and wrapped her arms about Gabrielle's shoulders. 
</p>
<p>Xena's frame stiffened. So Gabrielle had a protector. The girl wasn't very imposing but she was an ardent defender. The immortal couldn't fault the newcomer for attempting to protect Gabrielle but she could resent the intrusion. Her face turned away from the two with an expression so cold and unfeeling it could have been carved from ice. The men arguing on the other side of the clearing drew the warrior's attention. Without another word to the kneeling woman Xena stalked over to add her voice to the discussion over what to do with the French Major. 
</p>
<p>Dana murmured a few soothing nothings and encouraged Gabrielle back to her feet. "Come on." A bit of distance from the men would be just the thing. 
</p>
<p>On the opposite side of the tentative camp, Hagman noticed their departure with a frown. A few steps brought him close enough to tap Harper and point out what was happening. 
</p>
<p>"I'll see to watching over them." Patrick was grateful enough for this distraction. A bilingual argument was erupting as this new Colonel Mulder attempted to question the prisoner and Harris translated for Major Sharpe. The fact that Xena had jumped in with a curt sounding accusation in French only enlarged the headache Harper could feel coming on. "Mind the Major's back while I'm gone." 
</p>
<p>"Aye Sergeant." Hagman touched his forehead briefly as the other man turned away. 
</p>
<hr/>
<p><i>Mulder: I never expected this. I thought I was protecting you.</i> 
</p>
<p>"That's not the response you expected." Dana stated as the two women gained some distance between themselves and the makeshift camp. 
</p>
<p>"I should have." Gabrielle's voice was pitched to carry no further than her companion. She had noticed that one of the British soldiers was shadowing them. It was a sensible precaution she supposed. "I should have come sooner. How could I have been so... ?" The sentence trailed away. "She must think I'm cruel. That I only respond to bad behaviour. That it took this kind of trouble to get my attention." 
</p>
<p>They had drifted far enough, well past earshot of the company. Dana halted, catching at the other's arm to keep her wandering further. "I don't completely understand. You can't have been apart that very long. Why is this so big a problem?" 
</p>
<p>Gabrielle's mouth quirked in a semblance of a smile but the sadness in her eyes refuted any real pleasure. "You can't understand, Dana. Not completely." Perhaps the Irish woman could be told the real situation but this wasn't the proper time for the story. "But in it's simplest terms; I returned too late and for the wrong reasons. I fear that Xena's thinking I didn't come for the love of her but rather to scold and punish her." 
</p>
<p>Dana pondered the situation a moment. "Sort of like when a Mother only pays attention to a child because he's being naughty." She paralleled. "When what he really wanted was praise and affection the rest of the time. I can understand that." 
</p>
<p>Gabrielle's green eyes closed wearily and she sank down to sit on her heels. Fingers ran back over her scalp, threading into her hair. 
</p>
<p>"You should have slept last night." Dana lowered herself so she could drape an arm over her companion's shoulders. "It's harder to think straight when you're tired." She observed. 
</p>
<p>A dry chuckle grated out of the Bard's throat. "I had enough rest for thirty lifetimes while Xena and I were parted. The loss of one night's sleep shouldn't weigh on me, Dana." 
</p>
<p>"You and Fox." The redhead sounded indulgently put upon. "You both seem to think you're something more than human." Her hand petted absently. "Rest a bit. Give Xena a little while to calm down after all that excitement then try again to talk to her. I somehow doubt you'd give your heart to someone who would fail to appreciate the value of what you've given her." 
</p>
<p>Gabrielle's face turned down and she examined the ground between her feet with more interest than it could possibly deserve. "It always comes back to time." Her mind turned the encounter with Xena over yet again, trying to pick it apart. She was missing something. She had to be. The Bard frowned and began replaying the meeting one word at a time inside her mind looking for a clue to the problem. 
</p>
<p>Dana's hand stroked over pale hair as she watched Gabrielle's brow crease in deep thought. The pair of them dropped down to the scrubby ground, neither seeming to care about the sticks and pebbles that lay uncomfortably under them. The Irish woman laid an absent kiss on the crown of her companion's head. A smallpart of Dana's mind, a part she was extremely ashamed of, was revelling in the warmth of the body pressed against her rather than concentrating on Gabrielle's distress. This might be the very last time they would ever be so close. Xena and Gabrielle would work out their differences, Dana was convinced of it, and she herself would be returning to Wellington's camp to marry Fox. Dana wanted to etch this interlude into her heart for the future stretching out before her. 
</p>
<p>They sat, preoccupied and still, long enough for the shadows about them to shift slightly. About them the wafting wind and a faint twitter of birds drowned out the distant sounds of argument from the campsite. Closer, Patrick Harper occasionally shuffled in place but made little noise. The small huffing exhale the Sergeant let out at one point didn't seem unusual at the time. 
</p>
<p>It wasn't until someone's tread disturbed the bracken and intruded on their privacy that Dana raised her face from Gabrielle's thick hair. Her squeak of shock came just a second too late as a heavy branch arched around and clubbed into the side of the Bard's head before Gabrielle could untangle herself from Dana's embrace. 
</p>
<p>"Scream... " Aleksandr dropped his makeshift staff and palmed a dagger that glittered in the dappled light. "Scream and I'll see to it that you and your friend are both dead before any help arrives." 
</p>
<p>Dana stared up at the man looming over them, trying to understand the conflict of someone in British Rifle green hurting Gabrielle and threatening her. She shot a hopeful glance in the direction that Sergeant Harper had been then cursed herself for being so transparent. 
</p>
<p>"Your thick-headed Paddy protector is resting peacefully." A vicious smirk hooked his lips up. He squatted briefly to press his fingers to Gabrielle's throat. "She's alive. If you want her to stay that way, you'll do as I tell you." Standing once more he warned. "The nearest help is over a minute away and I only need ten seconds to deal with the pair of you. Now get up, stand with your arms out and don't make a sound." 
</p>
<p>Dana climbed unsteadily to her feet and took up the position Gabrielle's attacker had described. He slid cautiously up and, keeping his knife at the ready, began running his free hand over Dana. First her arms, then her body were subjected to an intrusive search. When he knelt and began feeling around and up the inside of her legs the Redhead pulled in a breath to protest. The tip of his knife resting against her ribs caused her to puff the air out silently. Only after his palm had mauled over her entire frame did he stand once more. Still not satisfied his fingers threaded into her matted curls searching for anything hidden there. 
</p>
<p>"I left my pistol back with the men." Dana whispered. "That's the only weapon I had." 
</p>
<p>"Stupid." He muttered almost absently. "How could Fox be so stupid as to tote along a bit of fluff like you while he chased me?" 
</p>
<p>"You're the spy." 
</p>
<p>The deduction made Aleksandr actually look into the woman's eyes for the first time since beginning his body search. "Alex. My name is Alex...  and you're Dana." He copied the leap of logic. "I've been reading about you, Mam'selle. You've quite the unrealistic vision of what life with our temperamental Fox is going to be like." 
</p>
<p>Dana couldn't hide her shock at the other's choice of words. 
</p>
<p>The surprised look on the young woman's face made Alek chuckle to himself. He stepped back and looked Dana up and down, shaking his head. His gaze moved slightly to take in Gabrielle's prone form while still watching his first target. "She's safely out of action for a while." A frown pressed his lips into a hard line. Pausing only a brief moment to consider Aleksandr bent and scooped Gabrielle's limp form up in one arm. "Let's go see your paddy bastard." After taking one step and realising that Dana wasn't following Alek's dagger slanted to catch the light. "It would be so easy to slide this under her skin. She's not in any position to protect herself, Dana. It's all up to you whether she lives or dies." He played the tip of the knife over Gabrielle's exposed throat. "Come on." 
</p>
<p>"I need to check Gabrielle. You shouldn't haul her around like that. It's dangerous. You might damage her spine. You might have cracked her skull." 
</p>
<p>"Give me trouble and I'll slit her throat to finish the job." Aleksandr inclined his head, pointing towards where Patrick had been standing watch. "Move. Quietly." He reminded the Irish woman, resting his knife against Gabrielle's neck to re-enforce his statement. 
</p>
<p>Harper was slumped against a small tree. His arms had been tied behind him and around the tree with a long ragged scrap of cloth. Another band of material was shoved into Patrick's mouth and fastened, gagging the Sergeant. His head lolled bonelessly. 
</p>
<p>Alek dumped Gabrielle to the forest floor then snagged Dana's arm. She was pulled down with him as he squatted down beside the unconscious man. Dana was twisted in place and shoved onto her rump. She couldn't help but struggle a bit as her back was forced against the rough bark. When her captor reached over she finally noticed the small pile of fabric strips lying on the ground. Dana's wrists were caught and in a few simple movements the spy had her bound tight to the same tree as Patrick. 
</p>
<p>"There. That's better." He smiled briefly. "I'd like to believe you won't scream but... Open up, Dana." Alek picked up one of the shorter strips. 
</p>
<p>Her jaw went hard briefly then she recalled the situation and forced herself to comply. To his credit he was gentler than Dana had expected him to be. Once he was satisfied with the security of Dana's bindings the last few strips of cloth were put to use binding Gabrielle's arms behind her back from her wrists to her elbows. 
</p>
<p>Scrubbing his sleeve once across his upper lip, Aleksandr nodded and turned back to his tree anchored captives. He showed quite another side of his personality entirely when the time came to deal with Patrick. Dana could see the malice shining in the spy's eyes as he turned to the Sergeant. Aleksandr indulged himself in a full-armed, open-handed slap across Harper's face. The woman beside them winced as two more were delivered quickly on the heels of the first. Patrick's eyes cracked open a bit after the third hard blow. 
</p>
<p>"Dobroe utro, khueplet." Aleksandr's smile was absolutely brilliant. "I can't stay long. The pretty blonde and I have to put a little distance between us and the boys...  but I need you to give Richard and Fox a message for me." Green eyes sparkled. "Tell their lovelinesses and La Princesa that I will trade this one... " His thumb hooked, indicating Gabrielle. "... for the French Major, alive and unharmed, and all three of the horses...  Mulder's and both of La Princesa's mounts." He smiled. "I've no desire to be chased down and killed before we've a chance to leave the area." 
</p>
<p>Some absolutely vile curse, muffled by the makeshift gag, snarled out of Harper. The Russian responded by slamming his hand across the other man's face yet again. Dana whimpered behind her gag and her eyes widened. He hadn't said anything about taking Gabrielle before. 
</p>
<p>"The place the French were camped at when I first found them. Major Navarre will know where I mean." Aleksandr elaborated. "Richard makes the trade when I show up with the woman. I want every single one of you there tomorrow at noon. Your lot better be standing all accounted for and quiet on the far south side of the clearing...  Mulder and the Princesa too, right out in front where I can keep an eye on them...  or I will vanish and you'll find nothing but the woman's dead body." With a nervous glance in the direction of the encampment Aleksandr rose to his feet, stepped over to Gabrielle and gathered her up over his shoulder. "Das vidaniya." He whispered before fading into the surrounding bracken with his captive. 
</p>
<hr/>
<p><i>Sharpe: You fight dirty, Harper.
<br/>Harper: So do you, Sir.</i>
</p>
<p>{You fail to grasp the situation.} The French Major protested in Mulder's direction. His expression was frustrated as he attempted to follow three different lines of questions and accusations. {Mister Krycek has nothing of value and is only attempting to remove himself from the conflict. Left alone he will not report in or return to his commanding officer. Pursuing him gains you nothing. As a point of fact it may even force him to return to his superior.} 
</p>
<p>Fox sneered. His head tipped to one side and his eyes narrowed as he studied the prisoner with more suspicion than before. 
</p>
<p>"Forget the spy. He's inconsequential." Xena interrupted. {You are a butcher, Major.} She accused. {Nothing you could tell us or do is going to stop me from avenging the death and destruction you left behind you.} 
</p>
<p>Navarre almost opened his mouth to protest that he hadn't been responsible but something told him that defence would only enrage the Partisan even further. {My men...  the Sergeant... } Etienne sought for the right way to explain. {I must accept responsibility for what occurred but for what it's worth. I never condoned the atrocities committed by Sergeant Malais.} 
</p>
<p>{It's worth nothing!} Xena snarled immediately. 
</p>
<p>Harris was attempting to translate the rapid-fire exchange as quickly as possible for Major Sharpe without transgressing on what was being said. 
</p>
<p>"He's admitting to WHAT?" Richard demanded. "What crimes is the man admitting to? Wellington will want particulars." 
</p>
<p>"The dead are gone." Mulder complained. "There's no urgency to dealing with this matter. The spy is alive and moving." He turned back to Navarre. {You must tell me Krycek's intensions, Major. Perhaps the disclosure might earn you mercy.} 
</p>
<p>Xena moved until she was invading Mulder's breathing space. "I will allow no 'MERCY'. This monster is responsible for the slaughter of defenceless farmers, unarmed women and children. There is no hell black enough to punish the like of him." The warrior professed. "He deserves no better than to have crows pluck out his eyes while his body lies writhing in agony. No mercy. No matter what secrets his lying tongue attempts." 
</p>
<p>Mulder refused to meet her challenge. His attention stayed fixed on the prisoner and he shifted to avoid Xena. {Did Krycek tell you where he was going? Whom does he report to?} Fox persisted in his line of questioning. 
</p>
<p>Navarre looked up at each of his captor in turn. There was nothing he could say that would please three such different people equally. Etienne had no intention of turning on Aleksandr to gain the dubious mercy that the man in leather was offering. The Partisan woman wanted little beyond his death. It was a small consolation that Major Sharpe was acting the part of a normal English officer. It was Major Sharpe that Etienne was going to have to rely on for the voice of sanity. {I have nothing to say. I will present my case to Lord Wellington.} 
</p>
<p>"You son of a... " Xena's arm shot out and her hand wrapped around the front of the Frenchman's throat. "I should kill you now." 
</p>
<p>"Don't Xena." Sharpe pulled his rifle forward and casually aimed toward his lover of the night before. "I took his parole. I will honour it." 
</p>
<p>She glared frostily at Richard. It appeared that he had finally regained his composure after the loops she'd knocked him through. Xena couldn't help but feel a flicker of appreciation that Sharpe was standing up to her but she didn't dare let her approval show. Her fingers released slowly, one at a time, pushing the limit. {It would be too quick. I want you to have time to think on your crimes as you die.} She informed Navarre. Her arms crossed and she scowled down at the man sitting in the dirt. Gabrielle wasn't going to like what Xena had to do with this Major but the situation had been set in motion before her soulmate's arrival. Damn! Her thoughts insisted on wandering again. It was intolerable! The Warrior couldn't back down from the vows she had sworn over the shattered bodies of the last little while. Focus was required here. There were a lot of things Xena would have to face up to before she and Gabrielle could even attempt to rebuild what they'd once shared. If she thought about all that lay before her it would petrify her. The immortal's concentration couldn't stand this kind of branching complication. The best Xena could do would be to finish the task she'd started here then see about mending the damage time and different paths had done to her relationship with Gabrielle. 
</p>
<p>{Major.} Fox sank down to rest on his heels. {I am Lieutenant Colonel William Mulder. That man, Krycek, he doesn't deserve your protection.} Serious hazel eyes caught and held Navarre's gaze attempting to suggest some sort of sympathy. {You are a soldier, an officer. Surely you can't want a common thief and a murderer escaping all responsibility for his actions simply because he sells information. A man like Krycek, his loyalty is to the highest bidder and perhaps your Emperor won't be the highest bidder next time.} Fox reasoned. 
</p>
<p>{You... } Major Navarre responded in a soft voice. {... know nothing about Aleksandr or his motivations. I will not betray his intentions.} Etienne vowed earnestly. 
</p>
<p>Fox's head tilted and his brows raised slightly. {'He' would betray 'you' in a heartbeat.} Mulder leaned in to whisper, disregarding the disapproval the action stirred up around them. {Everything he told you is a lie.} 
</p>
<p>{He may have lied to you, Colonel Mulder.} Navarre speculated, pinning down the other's emotional tone and trying to recall what Aleksandr had said about the man whose jacket he had taken. {But it wasn't that way with me.} 
</p>
<p>Mulder's lips pressed together firmly, giving the impression of a child pouting. A question was obvious in Fox's eyes but he didn't dare ask it in front of everyone. The world around them may have muted but it hadn't disappeared. 
</p>
<p>Etienne felt no such constraints. {If Aleksandr behaved badly in your company, Colonel, perhaps it was because you weren't worth the effort of anything more.} The statement was steeped in hidden innuendo. 
</p>
<p>Mulder's fist was up and smashing into the captive's face before the smug gleam he though he saw could expand from Navarre's eyes to his mouth. 
</p>
<p>"Bloody Hell!" Sharpe threw himself forward to topple Mulder and prevent another strike against their bound prisoner. "What the crud do you think you're at?" 
</p>
<p>The Canadian shoved Richard off and he scrambled backward, his chest heaving. It looked as if he might spout off but Fox's throat worked and swallowed whatever curses he was about to spew. Mulder purposefully ran his gaze over each of the people and the surrounding area. When he looked back to Sharpe, his composure had firmed up once more. "If you chose not to acknowledge my identity and rank, fine. If you chose not to listen to any orders I give, it doesn't matter." He stated in a resonating monotone. "I am finished here. As soon as I take my leave of Dana and Gabrielle I intend to track the spy down. I would appreciate it if your men would see to it that my fiancée is returned to the safety of Lord Wellington's base camp. I will return after I tend to Krycek and face whatever consequences my actions rate." Kicking up a small spray of rubble, Mulder turned on his heel and stalked off in the direction he had seen the women take. 
</p>
<hr/>
<p>To be continued... 
</p>
<p><i>Hopefully with a shorter interval involved than the last pause, Sorry.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <a id="notes" name="notes"></a>
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      <td> La Princesa Guerrera 
<br/>Chapter X
<br/>By Carla Jane and Jim [email removed]
<br/>May 2000<br/>THE FULL DISCLAIMER LIST IS AT THE BEGINNING OF CHAPTER I. Perhaps you should go and check out all the warnings if you're a sensitive reader Ownership: The characters from Xena: Warrior Princess, the X-files and Sharpe are not and never will be ours. No profit made. No harm intended. Violence, language and sexual content: Hey, this chapter is only PG rated. Neat. The story, as a whole however, contains f/f, f/m, and m/m sexual relationships. Ummm...  now would be a good time to remind y'all that we started this story and plotted it out just as the India arch began, so we didn't allow for that plotline and all that followed on Xena so please excuse us for divergences that arose from the conflict. Thanks.<br/>Oh look...  we didn't lose our beta-reader during the lull in performance.  Thanks ever so mousehounde for tolerating my neglectful behaviour.<br/>Feel free to curse at the bards (well, CJ's the problem actually) about taking so bloody long. Trust me it works. That's why I started up again. [email removed]
<br/>Or come visit our homepage at:
<a href="http://www3.sympatico.ca/carla.patterson/homepage.html">http://www3.sympatico.ca/carla.patterson/homepage.html</a><br/>Yeah, yeah...  I know this one took a while but I'm back on the horse. 

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